Read The Rancher's Homecoming Online
Authors: Arlene James
She felt steadier by the time they got back to the apartment. Rex didn't come in because he wanted to get back to his father. Bodie tried her new clingy act, holding on to Rex and huffing piteously, but her attention shifted the instant Callie mentioned “kitties.”
Though the cats had wisely avoided Bodie's grasp, darting in and out of her proximity just enough to tantalize her and guarantee her interest, Bodie had developed an intense curiosity about the animals. She even tried to call them, clicking her tongue and squealing incoherently at them. Confident that the cats would keep their distance, Callie had allowed her to try to entice them. She'd even allowed her to safely pet them when Meredith was around to hold them. Watching them running through their indoor playground had entertained Bodie for hours, while Callie lay on the floor with her, reading.
As for Callie, she welcomed the more productive pastimes of cooking and cleaning. Thankfully, she had to endure only one more day before she could pack their bags, collapse the portable crib and move the furniture back into its customary place.
On the day of departure, Wes arrived at Meredith's apartment on Rex's arm, a bag of freshly filled prescriptions in hand and a wan smile in place. He looked a little grayer to Callie but seemed in good spirits, despite the surgical mask that the doctors had insisted he wear until he got home. It didn't last that long as the jostling of the pickup seemed to upset his stomach.
Soon, they arrived back at the house to find Duffy waiting.
He helped get Wes into the house and the truck unloaded. Then he stepped aside with Rex.
“It's Soldier,” Callie heard him say, referring to Wes's beloved stud. “He somehow cut a foreleg. We called the vet. He put in some stitches and applied a dressing. Now it's wait and see.”
Rex sighed. “Thanks, Duff. I'll phone Dr. Burns and check on the horse myself later. Tomorrow we need to get back into the field. Make sure Woody and Cam are ready for an early start, will you?”
“Yes, sir.”
Obviously, Rex intended to waste no time getting back to work. While Rex talked to his dad about the horse, Callie prepared a light supper in keeping with the dietician's suggestions. Wes ate in his room, too tired and ill to come to the table. When Callie went in to pick up his dishes, he was talking to Ann on the phone, trying to sound jolly and reassuring.
“I'm fine, sugar. Don't worry about me. Rex and Callie are taking good care of me. Your sister's a nurse. She sees too much, and it concerns her. You need to help her keep her spirits up.”
Callie wanted to hug him and tell him what a good father he was. Even now, as he fought for his life, his concern for his children could not have been more evident. She couldn't help envying his daughters and wishing that she had the kind of relationship with her dad that Meredith and Ann had with Wes.
He soon drifted off to sleep under the influence of the antinausea drugs. Rex couldn't seem to relax, however, and checked on his dad repeatedly throughout the evening. He pretended to watch television, but Callie could see that he was poised to go to his father at any moment, attuned to signals of distress from the back of the house. She doubted he would rest at all that night.
“I have something that might help,” she said when he returned from another one of his quiet trips to Wes's room. “Wait here.” Rising from her seat on the sofa, she quickly padded up the stairs and slipped into the room that she shared with her daughter.
Bodie slept on her side, making sweet little breathing sounds. Callie smiled and tiptoed across the room to the nightstand. Carefully, she opened the drawer and removed the baby monitor set that she'd stored there. She'd received it as a gift but had barely used it. She and Bodie had always lived in very close quarters, either in the same room or right next door to each other. When she'd come here, she'd thought she might use it for Bodie's afternoon naps, but she'd forgotten about it, and her daughter didn't have any trouble making herself heard when she woke and wanted attention.
Quietly, Callie slipped out of the room again and carried the box with the baby monitor and receiver downstairs. She handed it to Rex, who had resumed his seat in the recliner.
“Put the main unit in your dad's room, and keep the receiver in your room or with you when you're around the house. That way, if he wakes ill during the night, you'll hear him.”
Rex looked up at her. “But don't you need this?”
She shook her head. “Not really. Mrs. Lightner used it a few times, but somehow I just...” She shook her head again.
“You always know when she needs you, don't you?” he asked, smiling. “I've seen it. You hear her before anyone else does. It's almost as if you hear her before she cries.”
Callie shrugged. “Just use it. You might sleep better tonight if you do.”
Rex nodded and started getting up. “You're right.”
He carried the set into the kitchen, where he unboxed it on the table and turned it on, making sure the batteries were still good. Then he took the monitor into his father's room, returning a few moments later to pick up the small receiver and carry it back into the living room.
“Thank you,” he told her, carefully tuning the thing. Wes's soft snore and the rustle of bedclothes transmitted clearly. Rex looked up, and his blue gaze seemed charged with something more than gratitude, but Callie knew she'd be insane even to think about it.
“I think I'll turn in,” she quickly decided, hopping to her feet.
He looked away then, lightly replying, “I'm going to sit down, rewind this program and actually watch it now.”
She chuckled, nodded and turned toward the stairs again. “Good night.”
“Good night, Callie. Will you pray for my dad tonight?”
“I will,” she promised. “You, too.”
“Thank you,” he said again with such feeling this time that she gave in to a very foolish impulse. Zipping across the room, she hugged him.
She didn't know why she did it. He'd just seemed so needy and worried, so alone in that moment. She'd wanted to help.
He wrapped his long, strong arms around her and laid his cheek against the crown of her head. After a long, tender moment, he pulled in a deep breath and straightened. Callie stepped back.
Gently tucking her hair behind her ears with both hands, he smiled. “I needed that. Seems you always know just how to help.”
Smiling and shaking her head, she moved back toward the stairs. “Sleep well.”
He picked up the receiver to the baby monitor and saluted her with it. “I will.”
Hurrying away, she began to fear that she'd always want to help Rex Billings.
Chapter Eight
W
es slept well, and because Wes slept well, Rex rested well enough to start the day early the next morning. He hadn't shared his plans with Callie because he didn't think it fair to ask her to rise before dawn when he knew that she was going to have her hands full with his dad and Bodie. Creeping past her door with his boots in hand and his hat perched on the back of his head, he tiptoed down the stairs, only to find the light on in the kitchen and a box waiting for him on the landing.
He sat down on the steps and pulled on his boots, then settled his hat and investigated the box, finding two large bottles of sports drink, a thermos of coffee, a fat breakfast sandwich and a bunch of grapes. Popping a grape into his mouth, he started down the steps to the kitchen, only to freeze when he heard a thin wail from above.
Callie immediately appeared, clad in a floral print cotton robe, her feet bare. She smiled as she ran lightly up the steps. Fearing that any conversation on the stairs would wake his father, he stepped back to allow her to pass, then followed. Callie entered her bedroom, leaving the door open, and plucked the fussing baby from her low crib. Bodie rubbed her eyes sleepily and dropped her head onto her mom's shoulder. Callie turned back to the door. Rex braced his forearms against the frame and smiled apologetically.
“Sorry if I got you guys up early,” he said softly. “Wasn't my intention.”
“I know. I heard you talking with Duffy yesterday.” She kept her voice low, patting Bodie on the back as she swayed side to side.
He hung his head, bowled over by Callie's kindness. “You take on too much. I wanted to let you sleep in this morning.”
“That's not necessary,” she told him, carefully laying Bodie down on the foot of her bed to change a soggy diaper.
“Will she go back to sleep?” he asked softly.
“I think so,” Callie said as she worked. “I'll nurse her and put her down again.”
“I've hired some extra help,” he told her for some reason, watching her pick up the baby again, “all I could find, so I need to get out there.” He was painfully aware that he was stalling, enjoying the sweetness of these quiet predawn moments.
Callie picked up Bodie and rose. Bodie rubbed her eyes again then reached for him. It was if she reached into his chest and squeezed his heart with that grasping little hand. He didn't have time to hold and play with her, but he caught her hand and kissed her tiny fingers, carefully because he hadn't shaved. Her bright baby smile induced him to step closer and kiss her soft, plump cheek. Wrinkling her button nose, she giggled. Callie laughed softly. Before he could even think, he turned his head and kissed Callie's cheek, too.
Both shocked, they stared at each other with wide, stunned eyes before his brain finally kicked into gear.
He blurted out, “I don't know why I did that. But, um, thanks, and...” He blinked before he could think what else he needed to say. “Gotta go.”
“See you for lunch,” she whispered, ducking her head.
Nodding, he quickly left, snatching up the box on his way. That woman would make someone an ideal wife. Some rancher, which he was
not
.
If he'd had any doubt about that, the idea was reinforced when roughly half of his expected extra help failed to show up by the appointed time.
A teenager named Jock Aster apologized for his father's absence, telling Rex, “Dad meant to be here, Mr. Billings, but he had to work for Mr. Crowsen instead. He asked me to apologize for him. The thing is, we owe Crowsen a pretty big feed bill, and we can't afford to be cut off.”
Rex couldn't quite believe that Crowsen would go so far as to punish Rex and Wes for hiring Callie by applying pressure to anyone else who might work for the Straight Arrow. That being the case, however, then Aster was to be commended for not keeping his son at home, too.
“It's okay, Jock,” Rex told the boy. “We'll manage.” But not having the crew he'd counted on complicated matters substantially.
Any doubts Rex had about the reasons for the situation vanished when he stepped up onto the porch at lunchtime and found young A. G. Carruthers waiting there. Tall, thin A.G. had been hired to drive his flatbed truck through the field so the stackers could toss the bales onto it for transport to the various storage barns throughout the property. When A.G. hadn't shown up, their transportation had been cut in half, which had lengthened the hay harvest time by at least four days, so Rex was glad to see him, until A.G. explained that he couldn't come to work for the Straight Arrow.
“I thought I owed you a personal explanation,” A.G. said, turning his billed cap in his hands.
“Let me guess,” Rex ventured. “Stuart Crowsen.”
A.G. nodded, his prominent Adam's apple bobbing as he gulped. “When my dad died last year, we didn't have a penny to bury him. I went down to the bank for a loan. Crowsen offered a personal loan instead, with my place as collateral. It was just six thousand dollars, with variable payments, which made it sound easy, but I didn't read the fine print well enough. Every time I'm a dollar short or a day late, Crowsen jacks up the interest. I owe more on it now than I did when I started, and if it's not paid by a certain date, he can make a claim on my place. I don't dare go against him.”
“That sounds downright usurious,” Rex mused, rubbing his prickly chin.
“I don't know about that,” A.G. said. “He keeps offering to buy my place, and it's a fair offer, but I don't want to sell.”
“Have you got a copy of those loan papers?”
“I do, and every letter I've had from him since I borrowed that money.”
“I'd like to see them, if you don't mind.”
A.G. looked taken aback. “Well...what for?”
“Legal curiosity,” Rex replied lightly. “Haven't had my lawyer hat on in a while. Can't hurt to take a look, can it?”
Frowning, A.G. seemed to think that over. “Guess not.”
“But let's keep it just between us for now. Okay?”
That seemed to reassure the younger man. “Okay. I'll bring 'em by later.”
“Good enough. Now, my lunch is waiting for me, and since Callie Deviner is a fine cook, I'm anxious for it.”
A speculative look entered A.G.'s pale gray eyes. “Is that so?” He ran a bony hand through his dishwater-blond hair. “Knew she was a looker. Didn't know she was a cook, too.”
Rex half expected him to shine his boots on the legs of his jeans and ask to speak to her. He'd completely forgotten that A.G. was single, and around here Stuart Crowsen's daughter would be considered quite a catch, especially as she was completely lovely and sweet. Irritated with himself as much as A.G., Rex told himself to keep his big mouth shut where Callie was concerned. And his thoughts elsewhere.
“I'd invite you in,” he explained, “but Dad can't have company because of his chemo.”
“Oh, no, I know. Callie explained it to me when I first got here. You tell Mr. Wes that Mom and me are praying for him.”
“Thank you. I will.”
The two men shook hands before A.G. departed. Rex went inside and straight to the small bathroom beneath the stairs to wash up before presenting himself in the kitchen. Callie had hung a clean shirt on a hook inside the door, so he stripped to the waist and put it on. Wes was not at the table, but Bodie played happily in the old playpen. She pulled up to one knee, lifting her arms. How could he resist that? He picked her up and clasped her lightly to his chest.
“Hey, sugar. What are you doing up? Isn't this usually your nap time?”
She planted a sloppy, openmouthed kiss right over the end of his nose that made him laugh and wipe his face.
“Yes, this is usually her nap time,” Callie said, carrying a plate to the table before taking Bodie from his arms, “but she slept later than usual this morning.”
“My fault. Sorry.”
Callie shook her head. “No one's fault. Sit down and eat.”
He straddled the chair and sat. “How's Dad?”
Callie shook her head again. “Tough morning.”
Rex sighed. “What can I do?”
“You're doing it. He just needs to know that the hay harvest is going well.”
“It's going fine,” Rex said, focusing on his plate. Slower than he'd like, but that was nothing to worry about. So long as it didn't rain.
“Did you speak to A.G.?”
“Yep. He'll be back later with some papers for me. If I'm not here, just put them on the desk in the study.”
“Okay.”
Rex ate quickly, then rose and prepared to go to his father's room.
“He's sleeping,” Callie warned, placing a plastic jug of iced tea on the table, along with a trio of energy bars, “but I'll tell him that you looked in.” Rex nodded and stuffed the energy bars into his shirt pocket. “And if you want, you can take your dinner in his room with him tonight. I don't think he'll feel up to the table for a while.”
Rex felt a pang of disappointment, but he said, “That'll be good.”
“I think Wes will like it,” Callie told him, smiling.
Returning her smile, Rex took the jug by the handle and walked off in the direction of his father's room. The door stood open, and Rex stopped there to look inside. As Callie had predicted, Wes slept heavily.
Something about him seemed different. Rex felt Callie at his elbow, and as if she'd read his mind, she whispered, “He asked me to cut his hair.”
“I hadn't realized how gray he's gone,” Rex said softly.
He felt her hand settle between his shoulder blades, a light, warm, comforting weight. After a moment, Rex turned away from his father's room and walked back down the hall past the kitchen, aware that Callie quietly, slowly followed, Bodie on her hip. Just before he stepped around the newel post at the end of the staircase into the foyer, he paused and looked back.
Callie lifted her free hand in a little gesture of farewell. Suddenly, Rex couldn't leave it just at that. This woman cooked his meals, did his laundry, took care of his ailing father, made their home. Yes, they paid her, but she did so much more than what they'd hired her to do. He couldn't imagine doing this without her or that little bundle of joy on her hip.
He walked straight back down that hall and kissed Bodie in the center of her forehead, winning a toothy grin for his trouble. Then he kissed Callie in the center of her forehead, bangs and all. Grinning, he swept them a bow as he turned and headed for the door again, swinging the jug of tea and saying, “Later, my ladies.”
Bodie babbled something he couldn't make out. Callie said not a word. It didn't matter. Rex was busy telling himself that kisses weren't necessarily romantic. In this case, it was more about gratitude than anything else.
And I am a lousy liar
, Rex thought.
Even if I'm only trying to lie to myself.
I'm going to dream about her again tonight. What an idiot I am. God help me.
He meant it very sincerely. He very much needed some kind of intervention here. Callie was no more meant for him than the Straight Arrow was. When he'd graduated high school, he hadn't been able to get out of town fast enough. He'd gone off to college with bountiful eagerness, certain that he'd never want to return permanently, and he hadn't.
Tulsa had worked out well for him, at least until the implosion of his marriage. A graceful city with just enough money and society to provide a cosmopolitan atmosphere and a touch of culture, it was neither as large nor as frenetic as the state capitol, but it had suited him. He enjoyed a good workout at the gym and an occasional game of tennis, and until his divorce he'd been able to keep a horse and ride, not as often as he'd have liked, true, but he'd still enjoyed it.
After he'd left his job, he'd sent the horse, Diamond, a showy bay gelding, back here to the ranch. Then suddenly, his dad was fighting cancer and facing surgery, and Rex found himself following Diamond back to the Straight Arrow. That didn't mean either of them would be staying.
He had a law practice and a whole other life to get back to; until then, though, he had a job to do here. That hay wasn't going to bale, transport and store itself.
He climbed back into the truck and headed out to the field, tea and energy bars in tow.
* * *
Crowsen hadn't even bothered to have an attorney draw up the contract. He couldn't have. Even the worst attorney would have known that at least one of the provisions of his loan to A. G. Carruthers was illegal, but then a banker would have known that, too. Rex took no satisfaction in recommending that A.G. seek legal redress. In an effort to keep his name out of it, he declined to handle the case himself. The last thing he needed was more trouble with Stuart Crowsen. Instead, he sent A.G. to a friend of his in Healdton.
Tom Jackson was a fine lawyer, especially in a courtroom, but he had no taste for city life. He'd left a promising career in Tulsa for a general practice in his hometown. His own father was a banker, so he seemed a perfect choice to handle A.G.'s case. In only a matter of days, Tom called to thank Rex for the referral. He was too professional to discuss the merits of the case, but a week hadn't passed when A.G. reported that Crowsen had amended the terms of the loan, which A.G. had already paid off.
Nobody's fool, Crowsen had to know that he didn't have a legal leg to stand on, so he hadn't fought. Instead, he'd tried to quietly put the matter to rest, assuming that A.G.'s dependence on the Feed and Grain would keep the younger man quiet. A.G. was perhaps not as wise as he should have been, though, and he bragged about his victory. Soon, Rex had a steady stream of folks trekking out to the ranch with various loan papers and contracts in tow.
Most of the agreements that Rex reviewed were completely legal if somewhat, in Rex's personal opinion, unethical. Being the only source of money in town, Crowsen seemed to charge higher interest and exact stricter terms than most lenders. Rex repeatedly pointed out that it might be worth driving out of town to borrow.