Arizona Cowboy (11 page)

Chapter 19

A
noise startled Ava from her sleep. She squinted and rubbed her eyes with her fingertips. It was still dark. She glanced at the alarm clock. One o’clock. She heard the noise again. She blinked several times.
That’s my phone. Who would possibly be calling at this hour?

She reached for the smartphone, pulled it off the charger and pressed Talk. “Hello?”

“Ava. It’s Holden.”

The panic in his voice startled her. She sat up straight. “Holden, what’s wrong?”

“It’s Dad. We’re at the hospital. He’s had a stroke.”

“What?” Her heartbeat raced and a cold sweat washed down her body.

“He’s gonna be okay, but he wants Irene.”

Ava nodded, then realized he couldn’t see her response. “Okay. We’ll be right there.”

Ava pressed End and flung her legs over the side of the bed. She looked up, startled, when she saw her aunt standing in the door. Fear filled Aunt Irene’s expression and she gripped her nightgown at her chest. “Who was that?”

“It was Holden.”

“What’s wrong with Jerry?” Her voice sounded frail.

Ava went to her aunt and grabbed her hands. “Holden said he’s had a stroke, but that he’s going to be okay. He wants to see you.”

Aunt Irene gasped, then turned on her heels. “Let’s get ready quick.”

Ava threw on a pair of capris and a thin T-shirt. She brushed her teeth, then combed her hair and put it in a ponytail. After tossing some fruit, granola bars and bottles of water into a bag, she scooped up her purse and dug out her keys. “I’m ready, Aunt Irene.”

Her aunt raced out of the bedroom with her shirt half tucked in her pants, and wearing mismatched shoes. Ava pointed to her feet, and she raced back into the bedroom and switched them, then shooed Ava out the door.

“Please, God. Heal his body,” Irene prayed.

Ava drove as quickly as she could, and dropped her aunt off at the entrance, then parked the car. Her mind swirled with prayers. For Jerry to be okay. For her aunt to be calm. For Holden to be strong. For Holden’s sisters and brothers-in-law.
Comfort them all, Lord.

She walked into the emergency room lobby and saw Holden sitting in a chair. He was leaning forward with his elbows resting on his knees and his hands cupping his head. She bit her lip, unsure what to do. She didn’t see his sisters or Aunt Irene. Daryl stood by a vending machine, while Carl slouched in a chair, fast asleep, his head pressed back against the wall.

Holden already reeled from the hurt of finding out about their son, and she constantly prayed for him to find peace and forgiveness. Seeing him hurt anew over his dad made her heart clench, and Ava couldn’t help but move toward him and sit down.

He glanced at her. His eyelids were heavy with fatigue and worry. Then he dipped his head again. Ava swallowed. She wanted to reach over and touch his shoulder or his arm, but she didn’t want to make him angry. She was probably the last person he wanted to console him.

Pushing the insecurity away, she looped her hand around his arm. She opened her mouth to share sympathy or a prayer or just a word of concern. Then she snapped her lips shut. He didn’t need words right now.

They sat there for several moments, while Holden leaned forward, his head in his hands. One of Ava’s hands wrapped around his elbow, and she tucked the other between her knees to keep it from shaking.

“He went to bed early. Said he had a headache.” Holden’s words were quiet, and he didn’t lift his head. “I don’t even know why, but I went in to check on him.” He lifted his head and looked at her. “I never do that. For some reason, I just went in there.”

“The Holy Spirit nudged you.” Ava bit her lip. She meant to only listen.

Holden studied her before he nodded. “Yeah. I think so, too.” He touched his cheek. “Dad’s face was pulled down on the side, and he could hardly lift his arms. I called 911, and Dad whispered, “Aspirin.”

Ava wanted to squeeze Holden’s biceps or fold her arms around him, something to show him that she was there to comfort him.

“I gave him the aspirin. Had to put it in his mouth, and he fought to swallow.” Holden grinned. “He’s a stubborn fighter, you know.”

Ava allowed a slow smile. She knew. Holden was the same way. When he decided something, he had a one-track mind about it. He’d tried to talk to her all those years ago. Now, she prayed he wouldn’t remain zeroed in on not forgiving her.

He shook his head. “Dad scared the life out of me, but the doc thinks he’s gonna be okay.”

“Holden.” Traci’s voice sounded behind them.

He turned. “Yeah?”

“Dad’s resting. I’m gonna go home so I can work in the morning.” She pointed to the doors. “You can go back there with Irene and Sara and sit with him.”

“Sure.”

Without saying a word to Ava, Holden stood and walked through the doors. Her heart broke that he didn’t want her with him. She could be a comfort for him to lean on. She thought of Holden’s words at the cemetery and how stricken he’d looked that she hadn’t allowed him to help her through the pain. She’d been such a fool. She hadn’t protected him. She’d taken away his chance to mourn and her chance for comfort. She couldn’t blame him if he never forgave her.

* * *

Holden was pleased with his dad’s progress. In only a week’s time, he was able to get around with a walker, and a lot of the drooping of his face had gone away. His speech was till slurred, but it was understandable.

And yet Dad struggled with depression and fear. He had moments when he would panic and want Holden and both of his sisters near him. Dad would grab a notepad and pen to be sure he could scribble words. His writing looked like that of a kindergartener, but as long as he could get a word or two out he was satisfied.

Holden walked to the barn to take care of a few chores. He was glad to be away from the tension for a while. The hot sun beat down upon him. He’d need to check on the cattle, as well.

Once Holden finished all the work he could, he walked back to the house. He smiled when he saw Jake and several of the boys standing around his father. Dad’s grin was still a bit lopsided as he pointed to the papers in his hand. “They brought cards.”

Zack saw Holden and gave him a quick hug. “We missed you last night.”

Holden tousled the redhead’s hair. “I missed you guys, too. I should be there next week.”

“We’re glad your dad’s okay. We prayed for him last night,” said Vince.

Holden patted Jake’s new stepson’s back. “I appreciate that.”

“Why don’t you boys get ice cream?” said Dad as he pointed toward the kitchen. Each word was a battle, but he’d gotten them out. The boys scurried inside, proof enough that they’d understood.

Sara’s voice came from the kitchen. “We’ve got ice cream sandwiches, but you’ll have to eat them in here.”

Chair legs clanked against the floor as the boys sat down at the table. Holden gave his dad a thumbs-up. “That’ll keep ’em busy for a few minutes.”

His dad smiled a lopsided smile again, then leaned back in the chair, clasped his hands together and closed his eyes. He’d been up awhile when Holden went out to check on the ranch, so he was certainly ready for a nap now.

“Megan’s bringing over some supper tomorrow night. Irene already told her what she could make,” said Jake.

Holden glanced to the woman who stood at their kitchen sink, washing dishes. She had spent a good deal of the morning chopping vegetables and fruits into pieces Dad could eat. She watched over him like Betty did her own calf.

Holden shook his friend’s hand. “We appreciate that. Irene would never admit it, but she probably needs a break.”

“Does Ava come over, too?”

He shrugged. “Sometimes.”

“How are the two of you?”

“Fine, I suppose. I make myself scarce when she comes. It’s not like I don’t have plenty to do.”

“Still not talking to her then?”

Holden lifted one shoulder. “We’ve talked. I just don’t go out of my way....”

“You’re just being stubborn.”

“No.” He tapped his chest with his finger. “I think I have good reason to be angry.”

Jake lifted his arms. “So, you’re going to stay mad forever? What good will that do? What will it prove?”

“It doesn’t have to prove anything.”

“You’re hurting yourself. Forgive her and move on.”

“I’m trying to forgive her,” Holden exclaimed.

Dad stirred. He opened his eyes, looked around, then shut them again.

“Everything all right in there?” Irene asked.

Holden’s cheeks warmed. He didn’t want her to know what they were talking about. “It’s fine. Sorry ’bout that.”

Jake rubbed his palms together and looked past him. “Listen, Holden. We can talk about this another time.”

“No. You listen. Just because you forgive someone doesn’t mean you want to have a relationship with them.”

Jake closed his eyes and exhaled, then tipped his head for Holden to look behind him. He turned and saw Ava standing there with a package of bottled water.

Feeling like a complete idiot, he grabbed the package from her hands, but not before noting the sadness that flicked through her gaze.

She gestured toward the front door. “I...I have some more groceries in the car.”

Jake nodded. “The boys and I will help.”

Holden put the water in the kitchen and instructed the kids to help Jake with the groceries. He brushed past his sister out the back door and into his truck. He rolled down the windows. The air was hot and sticky, but he relished the heat against his face as he drove away.

He didn’t know where he wanted to go. He just needed to leave. Ava had returned to Surprise back in the spring, and Holden had hoped for a chance with her again. Had got his heart all set on love. Jess was getting married. Jake had already tied the knot. Dad and Irene might as well be hitched. Then Holden had found out about the baby, and Dad had had a stroke. Holden punched the seat beside him. A man could take only so much.

He found himself parked outside the physical therapy clinic. He and Ava had fallen in love with each other again starting right there, of all places. He wasn’t lying when he’d told her she was a good therapist. She’d grown up so much since he’d known her eight years ago. Grew up for the better, and he’d found that he loved her all the more.

And yet each time he looked at her now he saw the lie. Not an outright lie, but one of omission. A secret she should have shared. Forgive her, Jake said, as if Holden didn’t know he should forgive her. But knowing what to do and being able to do it were two different things.

He stared out the windshield at the purples and pinks surrounding the setting sun, and remembered their time together watching the movie at the stadium.
God, I don’t want to feel this way. I want to forgive her. I just don’t know how.

Chapter 20

B
y the end of a miserably hot August, Ava’s hope that Holden would someday forgive her waned. With ninety degree and higher temperatures at night, she often woke up in a sweat, which then led to her fretting over Holden’s words to Jake more than a month ago.
Just because you forgive someone doesn’t mean you want a relationship with them.

With the words fresh in her mind again in the wee hours of the morning, Ava made her way to the bathroom and splashed cold water on her face. She settled into the wingback chair in her bedroom and lifted the Bible off the end table. In the past, she’d used her electronic device to read scriptures. Lately, she’d wanted to touch the words on the page and mark her thoughts and questions.

She looked at the verses she’d read the day before. Many people quoted the Romans verse in their times of trouble, but for years she’d fought the words Paul had penned. Closing her eyes, she whispered the passage imprinted on her heart. “‘We know that all things work together for good for those who love God, who are called according to His purpose.’”

But how could her baby’s death work good? And what about bad choices? She and Holden had been Christians that night all those years ago. They knew they’d gone against God’s plan for them. Every decision in life resulted in a consequence, good or bad. She mumbled the words again. “‘All things.’”

Because of that night, a child had been formed. Though he hadn’t taken a breath, she’d felt his life within her. Had it not been for her son, she might have pursued her parents’ life, one of caring only for career and getting ahead. And from her baby’s death, she had learned to cling to God for comfort and peace. She’d meet precious baby Holden one day in Glory.

She flipped the pages of the Bible to the front and traced Holden’s name and date of birth and death with her fingertips. Indescribable pain had come from his death, and yet good had indeed come as well.

She opened the table drawer and pulled out the small photo album. She didn’t often look through the pictures Aunt Irene had taken of Holden, because Ava basked in remembering him alive in her womb. Opening to the first page, she studied his perfect face. The nurse had placed a blue cap on his head, covering the exposed brain. His eyes bulged a bit, but his cheeks were chubby, his little mouth perfect and shaped like his daddy’s. In the picture, she held him in her arms, with tears streaking down her cheeks.

Again, her heart broke that she hadn’t told Holden. When the doctor had explained the diagnosis, and that her son would certainly die after birth, if not before, she couldn’t see the benefit of telling him. She hadn’t talked to Holden in months. He didn’t know she was pregnant. Why call him to come see a dead baby?

She traced their child’s small, perfectly formed hands in the picture. She hadn’t realized how good it would be to hold her son. In her eyes, he wasn’t deformed. He was perfect, and he’d left her to live in the arms of Jesus. Somehow holding him had allowed her to release him.

And she’d stolen that opportunity from Holden.

She put the photo album away. The past couldn’t be undone, and consequences did result from all actions. Holden might never be able to forgive her in a way that allowed them to have a relationship again. The thought pained her, but she had to choose to find the good in it.

She stood up and changed into some comfortable, cool clothes, then brushed her hair and pulled it back into a ponytail. When she walked into the kitchen, Aunt Irene was pouring a glass of orange juice. Ava glanced at the clock. She hadn’t realized she’d spent so long reading the Bible, praying and looking at pictures.

“You ready to work on the garden?” asked her aunt.

“Absolutely, though I am not sure how you will be able to keep up with all the vegetables you’re planting at Jerry and Holden’s house.”

“I thought you loved to garden.”

Ava took a glass from the cabinet and poured herself some juice. “I do, but I don’t live at their house. Making sure all those vegetables are taken care of will be a chore.”

“Jerry will help. And Holden.”

Ava unwrapped a granola bar. “Holden is busy on the ranch, and Jerry is doing great, but...”

“Are you saying broccoli, cucumbers, cabbage, carrots, snap beans, green onions, spinach and turnips sound like a lot of veggies to keep track of?” Aunt Irene smiled.

Ava lifted her finger. “And don’t forget we planted sweet corn seeds last month.”

She snapped her fingers. “That we did.” She winked. “You might just have to quit your day job and move over there.”

Ava laughed. “First of all, I love my day job. And secondly, I think Holden would have a few things to say about that.”

Aunt Irene shrugged. “I don’t know. I think he’s coming around. It’s just taking him a while. Quite a shock, you know.”

Ava picked at her fingernail. “I was so wrong not to tell him.”

“You can’t change what’s done. You’ve asked for forgiveness.” Her aunt patted her hand. “You can only focus on following God’s will now.”

“I know.” Ava swallowed the last of her juice, then placed the glass in the sink. “We better get over there. The longer we wait, the hotter it’s gonna be.”

Aunt Irene walked down the hall. “Let me get my shoes, and we’ll go.”

Ava opened the door to see the sun just peeking up over the horizon. The sky, a mixture of purples, pinks and yellows, seemed to beckon the city to wake up and enjoy a new day. Ava would dig into the earth, literally, allowing God’s nature to be a balm to her heart and soul. No matter what happened with Holden, she would trust the Lord.

* * *

Holden dreaded the weekends. Saturdays and Sundays meant a lot of time spent with Ava. Irene came to the house every day to help Dad, and his recovery had been incredible. Already, he got around without a walker and talked without problems. He still napped a lot and battled fear that he’d lose the ability to communicate again, but overall, his health was terrific.

Holden set bowls of hot whole-grain cereal on the kitchen table. Dad cut up bananas and placed the pieces on a saucer while Holden grabbed an orange for himself. They sat at the table, and his dad offered a quick blessing.

“Ava’s planting again today.” Jerry popped a bite of banana in his mouth and chewed.

“I know.” Holden nodded toward his cereal. “As soon as I finish breakfast, I’ll look in on the cattle, check the fences.”

“Gonna avoid the house all day, huh?”

“No. I’ve just got things to do.”

“Mmm-hmm.”

Dad took a bite of cereal. He spent a lot longer chewing his food. He seemed to exaggerate each bite to insure his jaws still worked as they should.

“How are you feeling today, Dad?”

“Good.” A shadow washed across his features. “The physical rehabilitation has been a lot easier than the emotional.”

He held up a bottle of pills. “I never dreamed I’d take medicine for anxiety. Always prided myself on giving my troubles over to God.”

Holden shifted in his chair. He’d been struggling in his quiet moments with the Lord. Every lesson he taught the boys at church and every scripture he read seemed to focus on forgiveness and love.

Love wasn’t the problem. He’d given up trying to overcome the feelings he had for Ava. Each time he saw her, his heart drummed to a disjointed, staccato beat that took his breath away. But his feelings were more than just emotion. He loved her. Wanted the best for her. Yet he couldn’t get past the truth that she hadn’t trusted him enough to tell him about their baby. He felt betrayed by her.

His dad tapped the top of the medicine bottle, drawing Holden from his thoughts. “But God is using this medicine to help me. Pride’s a funny thing.” He chuckled. “I believed my way of thinking was right. Showed faith.” He tapped his chest. “But it was my way. God uses all kinds of things to draw us near. This helps clear my mind so that I can lean on Him.”

The front door opened. Irene walked into the kitchen, then leaned down and pressed a kiss on Dad’s cheek. She grinned at Holden. “How are two of my favorite guys this morning?”

“Good,” said Holden.

“Ava didn’t come with you?” asked Dad. “I thought you had gardening in mind.”

Irene pointed to the yard. “She’s already hard at work. That girl sure loves to garden. Was up well before sunrise.”

“She was?” said Dad.

“She might have had a few other things on her mind. That one’s not been sleeping too good lately.” She patted Dad’s back, then pointed to Holden. “Before you set out to do your chores, I wondered if you’d help me a minute.”

Holden stood. “Of course.”

He followed her into the spare bedroom, where she had him move the dresser and nightstand. They seemed fine where they’d been before, but Irene had been so helpful and kind he decided not to argue. She plopped down on the foot of the bed, then tapped the mattress beside her. “I’d like to talk with you a minute, if you don’t mind.”

Holden’s stomach tightened when he sat down and she pulled a small blue photo album out of the bag. He knew what was inside that book. Part of him wanted to run out of the door. Ava had offered to let him see pictures, but he’d never been able to conjure the courage to ask. He feared what his son would look like, feared what he’d feel when he saw the baby.

She placed her hand on top of the album, then looked at Holden. “Do you know Ava rarely sleeps? Her faith has grown tremendously, but she still hurts that she never told you about your son.”

Holden tried to harden his heart against the words, but the sincerity in Irene’s gaze weakened his resolve. “She’s apologized. I know she meant it.”

“No, Holden. I don’t think you do. She was shocked when she learned of the baby. Soon after, she was told he wouldn’t live, possibly not even take a single breath. She was only eighteen.”

Holden stared at the album in Irene’s grasp. He wanted to see, yet he didn’t.

“In her mind, she couldn’t see the good in calling you after months of being gone, to tell you she was pregnant, and that your baby was going to die.” Irene placed her hand on his shoulder. “She thought she was protecting you.”

Holden opened his mouth to respond, but Irene shook her head. “Then she saw him, and she knew she’d been wrong.”

Irene opened the book, and Holden bit his bottom lip as he looked down at his son in Ava’s arms. Irene placed the book in his hands, then walked out of the bedroom and shut the door. Holden sat there and devoured each page. With his little blue cap on his head, the child looked like a perfect, alive baby.

Holden flipped through the pages and stopped at one of Ava holding their son. Her profile showed tears streaming down her cheek as she touched their child’s lips with her finger. Beneath the picture she’d written, “Daddy’s mouth.”

Holden’s heart broke, and the Holy Spirit slipped in a peace he couldn’t explain or comprehend. He’d forgiven her.