Chapter 7
Amy’s heart raced. There must to be something she could do to get the horse out of the trailer, but what? How to make him listen, motivate the animal before it was too late and they both went into the bay?
“Damn, come with me or I’m leaving. I’m not going into the water with you. No way. Move.” As if he understood, the animal began to backup. “That’s right.” She dared to breath. “Good boy. Keep going. Yeah. Good.”
The horse hesitated at the doorway, but with a little more encouragement he slowly backed out of trailer.
On the shoulder of the highway traffic was light, thank goodness. Under the circumstances, the stallion calmed down. On solid ground, she relaxed.
Wyatt banged on the driver’s side window with a stone until it cracked. Though the safety glass broke into tiny pieces, the window held together. With the rock, he made a hole big enough to reach in and unlock the door.
“Dad, wake up,” he yelled.
The wind whipped their words toward her.
“What the hell,” the old man shouted back.
“You’ve been in an accident, Dad.”
“Some asshole ran me off the road. Shit, what are you doing here? Where’s the horse? Is he hurt?”
“He’s okay, but you’re bleeding.”
Wyatt leaned out of the truck’s cab and yelled, “Amy, where’s the first aid kit?”
“It’s on the ground, next to the front wheel. I tried to call 911, but couldn’t get a signal.”
“Hey, you guys,” the young stranger said.
She’d almost forgotten about the man from the car stopped in front of them He’d run toward the accident too.
“I’ve got a CB radio in my car. I’ll get help,” He ran back to his sedan.
After he made the call he, waved and yelled, “Sorry I can’t stay. I got people waiting for me, but good luck.” His car sped out of sight.
The minutes ticked by as they waited for the paramedics and a tow truck to arrive. They sat on the shoulder away from the truck and trailer in case it slid further into the drink.
She glanced at Mr. Cameron. Pale and with a bruised face, he didn’t speak. He slumped forward. Head in his hands, he moaned.
Wyatt paced back and forth staring in the direction the paramedics might come.
She did her best to keep the horse calm. She’d learned Wyatt’s dad had agreed to drive him back to Sacramento so Wes could have the night free, to party no doubt.
“Stop hovering, Wyatt,” Mr. Cameron said. “I’m all right.” He wiped blood from his forehead.
Even in the waning light, she could see a bruise forming around the broken skin and blood slowly oozed from his wound. He got up and started to walk away.
“Where you going, Dad? The Paramedics will be here soon. Sit down.”
“Your brother will kill me if that horse isn’t okay. Did you see he’s favoring his front leg?” His father groaned and sat down again.
“I’ll take care of him. Wes should be here. The stallion belongs to him.”
Wyatt looked the horse over checking for injuries, all the while whispering to the animal. Shadow obviously knew him, and relaxed and stopped pawing the ground when he spoke. Amy never knew anyone as good with horses as Wyatt.
Holding the horse’s reins, he stood next to Amy. “That damned brother of mine shouldn’t have let my father drive alone. It was his responsibility not Dad’s. Wes is never going to grow up and I’m sick of his behavior,” Wyatt said under his breath.
“Don’t start on your brother. He deserves a night out. Just take care of the damned horse,” Mr. Cameron growled.
“Relax, Dad. Shadow’s fine.”
Wyatt tensed when his dad defended his brother. Amy realized it must be a reminder Mr. Cameron had chosen Wes as the favorite son when he divorced, leaving Wyatt and his mother to fend for themselves. Yet Wyatt was helping his dad, still being the good son.
“You know Amy got the horse out of the trailer and settled him down.”
“You’re kidding.” The old man looked at her with an expression of disbelief.
“No, I’m not.”
“Well, I never.” Dad caught a drip of blood before it ran into his eye.
“He should have a bandage,” Amy whispered.
“I tried. He wouldn’t let me touch him.”
“I’ll try. If I can manage horses and kids…”
With the first aid kit in hand she knelt next to Wyatt’s father. “Let me cover that cut on your forehead.”
“Don’t matter. I’m okay.”
“I know you are. It’s getting dark and you could see better with both eyes clear.” She forced a smile. “Give me a second.” With the first aid kit open, she picked out what she needed and with a piece of gaze she cleaned the wound and placed antibiotic cream and a band-aid in place.
“You handled Shadow?” he asked.
“Yeah, he understood I was trying to help.”
“I’ll be damned. He’s an ornery cuss. I’m flabbergasted he let you near him.” He closed his eyes.
“Mr. Cameron, are you okay?”
Wyatt arrived carrying a blanket from his truck. “Lay down Dad. The ambulance should arrive any minute now, but might as well rest.”
Without comment the old man did as he was told. So out of character for him, it worried Amy. Where was the argumentative old man? Was he too injured to even say “no”?
She glanced at Wyatt. “You cut your hand.”
“I did it when I reached through the broken glass to get the truck’s door unlocked. Never mind.” He yanked his hand from hers and brushed the back of his hand on his jeans.
“You need a bandage too.”
“Don’t go playing nurse with me, Amy.”
“Don’t go bad-tempered on me, Wyatt.” She grinned and took his hand and placed antibiotic cream and a band-aid on his cut, then kissed him on the cheek as if he were a little boy.
To her relief, he laughed and kissed her hard on the lips and then said, “Okay, you happy now?”
“Yeah tough guy, I am.”
They both laughed.
As the night darkened and the wind blew harder, she and Wyatt huddled behind the trailer to stay warm.
“Damn, help is taking why too long, Where the hell are they?” Wyatt pulled her closer. “Honey, this isn’t what I planned for tonight.”
“I know.” She hesitated. “Not your fault. You have to take care of your dad.”
“Do I? Where’s Wes? I texted him. He’s never been responsible.” He tensed and she was reminded just how physically strong he was. The vision of Wyatt slugging Wes, after his brother called her a slut, flashed in her memory. Why was Wes always causing problems?
Fog rolled in and traffic picked up. Finally, a fire engine with a paramedic on board arrived, followed by a tow truck. It wasn’t long after a Highway Patrol car parked on the shoulder. Wyatt rushed to greet the officers and fill them in on the situation.
In the flashing lights of the vehicles, Amy tightly held onto Shadow’s reigns and did her best to comfort the animal. He neighed, but didn’t try to get loose.
The special services worked swiftly to clean up the accident. Soon the red GMC truck was back on the road and the trailer was righted. She was allowed to load the stallion into a stall in the trailer.
Wyatt ran up to her just as she was closing the trailer’s latch.
“I think my dad is spending the night in the hospital, Vallejo General. The ambulance will transport him to the emergency room and paramedic said he’ll stay for observation.”
“Oh.”
“Can you drive my truck back to Sierra Creek?”
“Yeah.”
“Good.” He paused. “After I leave the hospital, I’ll take Wes’ stallion to his barn and drive my dad’s truck to the farm.”
“Wyatt, I could follow you and we could caravan home.” She shivered as a gust of wind struck her.
“Honey, there’s no point in you staying up all night. And Dad’s an old grump. If I don’t stay with him he’s liable walk out of the hospital without the doctor’s permission.”
“No way.”
“Afraid so. I’ll make sure he stays. The keys are in the truck, Drive carefully. You sure you can manage the pick-up?”
“Hey, I’m a country girl. I drove grandpa’s old GMC before I was old enough to get a license. Three on the tree, and it handled like a tank. No worries, your truck should be easy.”
“Okay, just stay safe.” He threw her a kiss then checked the trailer hitch again before running to the GMC’s cab.
In Wyatt’s Ford 150, she watched the red truck and horse trailer disappear. Keep safe, Wyatt.
Totally alone, she shivered.
***
Amy glanced out of the second story bedroom window of the old farmhouse to the driveway below. Three thirty in the morning and Wyatt wasn’t home yet. His truck was parked near the barn, but he was still gone. She froze in place and hoped to hear the sound of an approaching pick-up.
Silence.
The first time she’d seen Wyatt again was on her return to Sierra Creek. Sitting in his black truck, his brown hair had fallen casually over his high forehead and deep-set blue eyes had sparkled in the sunlight. It had been years since seeing him. Even so, that day his sex appeal had sent a strong reaction through her. Now every time he came home and smiled at her, there was a passionate response.
She went to the farmhouse to get some sleep, no need for both of them to be up all night. She pulled the bed covers up and closed her eyes.
Sleep eluded her as the night’s events played over and over in her mind. At four thirty in the morning she gave up any idea of sleep and got up to make coffee.
The house was quiet with everyone gone. She entered the den and turned on the computer, may as well get this week’s blog written. The subject for the blog was beautiful and inexpensive flowers for a spring wedding. She forced herself to focus and turn her thoughts away from what Wyatt must be doing.
After researching she discovered roses and orchards were definitely out. Daisies of all types and colors fit the bill. She especially liked the Gerber daisy because it was available in many colors. As she viewed the gardens online she relaxed. For the first time, she realized the importance of beauty. Was she making sure there was enough in her life?
Perhaps she should grow flowers on the farm. She’d have to find out. Daffodils grew well in the California foothills. She made a mental note to look into growing and selling them.
An hour later satisfied with the blog, she resisted texting Wyatt for an update. He’d get in touch when necessary. “You have to learn to be patient,” she said into the empty house.
***
Wyatt hoped to hear from the doctor soon and stopped pacing the hospital waiting room. It had been a relief when he received a text from Amy letting him know she was on the farm. At least he didn’t have to worry about her.
First the lab drew blood and now his dad was in x-ray. Busy because of a multi-car pileup on the freeway, none the less the doctors and staff did their best to complete everything in a timely manner. He could at least be tolerant. The severely injured took priority. Damn. He wasn’t good at doing nothing.
He thought about calling Amy, but didn’t want to disturb her sleep and anyway without new information to impart, why call?
He’d repeatedly dialed his brother. No response, not that it surprised him. Must be about a one percent chance of reaching the guy. Even if he did what could Wes do at this point? Earlier. he might have taken care of the horse and made sure the stallion was returned to his home paddock, but now…
He glanced at the clock hanging above the door in the emergency waiting room, five in the morning. At ten o’clock his vet offered to look the horse and make sure the animal had no long-lasting injuries to hamper his future. Wyatt didn’t believe he did, but always good to have a professional agree with that assessment.
He and Amy had both needed time off to reconnect. With his job keeping him away much of the time, he believed they might lose touch. That’s why he’d planned a couple of days off where they could be together, worry free and have a little fun. He laughed. Lately, he’d been working so hard to acquire the money to start the business, he’d almost forgotten the meaning of the word “fun.” A disappointed expression had spread across Amy’s face, probably the realization their mini-vacation must be cancelled.
With the knowledge of Wyatt’s history concerning his parents, many women would have told him the old man didn’t deserve help. Dad didn’t give any when he was a teen. But Amy supported his decision to go to the hospital with his father. She impressed him and confirmed his belief that kindness to everyone was part of her nature.
***
Amy woke with a start and saw her cold cup of coffee still on the table in front of the couch. Planning to sit down for a few moments and finish her drink while the fire in the fireplace warmed the house, she had nodded off.
A truck was coming up the road. Hopeful Wyatt was finally home, she yanked her down jacket off the hook in the closet and ran to meet the pickup.
Wyatt parked his dad’s truck, jumped out and stretched before slamming the driver’s side door. He smiled when he saw her.
She ran to meet him to throwing her arms around his neck. “Hi, honey.” She kissed him.
“You feel good.” He yawned.
“Wyatt, you must be worn out.”
“Dead on my feet.”
“Did you have dinner last night?”
“I bought a chocolate bar from the vending machine at the hospital.” He caressed her hair and then kissed the nape of her neck, before claiming her lips. His stomach growled.
“I’ll whip up some scrambled eggs. I have apple fritters too.”
“Sounds great.”
She watched him wolf down breakfast and drink apple juice.
“I didn’t realize I was so hungry.” He leaned back in the kitchen chair. Deep in thought, his expression darkened.
Almost afraid to ask how Wyatt’s dad was doing, she cleared her throat, but didn’t speak. Mr. Cameron had been so pale when he was loaded into the ambulance for transport to Vallejo General. Finally, she said, “How’s your dad doing?”
“Don’t know yet. The doctor should call later today and tell me if dad can come home.” He paused. “They found he has untreated high blood pressure. If it’s not controlled, he could have a heart attack.”
“Whoa. Maybe it was a good thing to go to the medical center. He might never have understood he was in danger.”
“Guess so, but it still doesn’t get Wes off the hook. He should’ve been there.” He stifled another yawn. “I’ll probably have to drive back and give my dad a ride home. I better get some sleep. Thanks for breakfast, honey.”
“Good night,” she said even though the morning sun shone in the kitchen window.
***
Wyatt sat in Vallejo General Hospital’s lobby waiting for his father. Two in the afternoon and his dad hadn’t been released yet.
He and Amy should be in San Francisco enjoying the place like tourists. This was another day lost to them that couldn’t be returned. He pushed down the resentment he felt toward the old man, then groaned and wondered if there’d be any time to do something with Amy before he returned to the circuit or if taking care of his father would fill the whole day.
He could have let the man get home on his own. After all, what had he done for him in the last twenty years?
Shit. If he did that he wouldn’t be any better than his dad. No, he didn’t intend to be that type of man. They might share DNA, but it didn’t mean they were from the same mold. Damn. He’d do what was right and prove the acorn could fall far from the tree.
To her credit, Amy suggested Mr. Cameron stay in the cottage on the farm until he was feeling better. Wyatt should have guessed his dad would balk at that idea, demanding to be driven to his home.
After being brought to the exit in a wheelchair, Wyatt watched the man limp to the nearby GMC truck.
“Don’t stare. I bumped my cursed knee on the dashboard in the accident.”
“Okay.” He slowed his pace so his father could keep up. “You might as well stay in the cottage. You’d have your privacy and we could help if you needed wanted something.”
“Just get me the hell home and leave my truck. You can catch the bus back to Sierra Creek.”
“Amy will pick me up if I ask. And she doesn’t mind if you change yours and want to stay with us for a couple of days.”
Dad grimaced as he hauled himself into the passenger’s side of the truck. “I’ve never been a burden and I’m not going to start now.”
They rode in silence. Wyatt suddenly realized he’d never been to his father’s place–not invited. This was the first chance to see the home where he wasn’t welcome.
Ignoring protests, Wyatt stopped at a grocery store and bought supplies to keep his Dad for the next few days until he felt better, buying mainly frozen dinners, fresh bread, and dried fruit. He added jars of peanut butter, strawberry jam and a bag of coffee for good measure.
About The highway went through the main street, but the buildings lining the way gave no indication they wanted travelers to stop and visit.
A feed store bustled with activity. Across the street was a bar. It must be busy on a Saturday night, but right now the place looked abandoned. As they drove though the town, he didn’t see a café or restaurant. Maybe the saloon served food too.
On a dusty two lane road, he parked in front of a small white bungalow. The lawn was yellow from lack of water and the house cried out for paint. The old cement walkway was cracked and weeds, not needing much moisture, poked through the open spaces, growing two feet tall.
Removal of the weeds and a fresh coat of paint would bring cheer to the place, but he guessed that wasn’t about to happen anytime soon.
He’d always imagined Wes and Dad living in a superior home from his. He’d slept on the couch in the living room while his mom used the only bedroom in the apartment over the meat market on Main Street. Nonetheless, until she died, she’d done her best, with little money available, to make their place pretty and cheerful.
In the cottage, he tossed the truck’s key on the entry table and proceeded to the kitchen. He expected to find dirty dishes and rotting food, but the room was clean and looked rarely used. Good thing he’d stopped at the store because beside a half full carton of eggs and can of coffee, the fridge and cupboards were bare.
Piles of old newspapers, including racing forms, lined the walls of the living room. Worn orange carpeting ran the length of the hall that lead to the master bedroom. The double bed was made and a horse blanket was thrown on the end of the bed. For twenty years of living there wasn’t much to show, no family photos, and no art of any kind on any of the walls.
The place might have been a cheap hotel room or a house owned by a stranger. His closed his eyes for second as he understood that’s what this man was, a complete unknown. Wyatt had no real connection to him, blood wasn’t enough. He comprehended nothing of the man’s likes or dislikes.
Amy’s grandparents acted as his real family after his mom died. They’d been there for him when he was sick or about to make a stupid mistake. He’d learned kindness and dependability from them. If only he could tell Granny and Grandpa now how much he loved them.
A big man, his father appeared old and somehow less important than a day or two ago; the resentment he’d felt toward his father disappeared. He was grateful the man hadn’t been the one to raise him or he could have become just like him.
He helped his dad settled in the bedroom with everything he thought he might require and then texted Amy to come and get him, ASAP.
“Call me if you need anything,” he said before he left the bedroom, but his father was already watching TV and didn’t respond.
***
Just as Amy pulled in front of Mr. Cameron’s home, Wyatt came out of the front door and waved. Stress and exhaustion appeared to slow his step and his broad shoulders slumped.
“Amy, you have no idea how glad I am to see you,” he said as he entered the old Volvo on the passenger’s side. He leaned back and closed his eyes. “My dad is one aggravating old man.”
She didn’t respond, but silently agreed with him and then turned the sedan around and headed toward Sierra Creek.
The closer they got to town the more energized Wyatt seemed to be. He filled her in on his dad’s condition. “He’ll recover in a few days if he stays on his high blood pressure meds and takes it easy. The doctor said he could feel better than he has in years. If he follows directions.”
She glanced at him.
“The old man won’t,” Wyatt said.
“We should go out to dinner. I don’t know about you, but I’m starved.” She changed the subject to something less stressful.
“Okay. How about the diner? Amy it’s not what I’d planned for tonight, no water views or candlelight. But the food’s pretty good.
“Works for me.”
The most popular restaurant on Main Street, Mel’s Diner, was Melody and Melvin’s Johnson’s pride and joy. A middle aged married couple both with the nickname “Mel.” Which might be confusing to a newcomer, but Amy met them when she was six years old.
As they entered the restaurant two teenaged girls waved and yelled. “Hi, Wyatt.” They giggled and took a photo with their smart phones.
“I keep forgetting what a celebrity you are, honey,” she teased him.
He cringed. “Don’t teenage girls have anything better to do?”
“Imagine the excitement viewing a big rodeo star.” She grinned at him.
“Give me a break.” He laughed. “Let’s get some food.”
“It may take a while.” She stared at a sea of town’s people waiting in line.
“Don’t worry. While we drove, I sent a text to Mel. She’s saving a corner booth for us.”
Seated next to each other, they gave their orders directly to Mel.
Amy planned to update Wyatt on all the arrangements for the wedding and her new job, but seeing his tired eyes, she changed her mind.
Suddenly the music from the Jute Box blared. “I wish they had a dance floor. Wouldn’t it be fun to dance to the old classics?”
“I’m just happy to finally have dinner with you,” he said.
“Me too.” She kissed his cheek.
He pulled her closer. “You’re beautiful.”
“I’m not. I’ve often wondered what attracted you to me. I mean I’m realistic and I’ve seen photos of the other women you’ve dated. They’re posted all over social media.”
“Come on, you know it’s just publicity. You’re gorgeous to me.”
“Be serious, Wyatt.”
“I am. I’ll agree you don’t look like a model. You’re prettier. Honey, it’s corny, but beauty is in the heart. And no one has a more beautiful one than you.” He paused and lowered his voice. “You’ve taught me how it feels to have someone who cares.” He hesitated. “Besides I love your curly hair, cute freckles, perky breasts.”
“Stop,” she whispered sternly.
“Well, you asked.” He shrugged, but she noticed the winkle in his blue eyes.
Sitting so close she could feel heat coming from him and her breathing quickened. She reached up and caressed his face, her lips opening for him. She stifled a moan of pleasure when he returned her kiss.
Aware they were still in the restaurant, she opened her eyes and the room came into focus in time to see Mel moving toward them carrying a tray.
“Okay you two lovebirds break it up.” She laughed. “This is a G rated diner.” She set their plates down still laughing at her own joke.
Amy’s cheeks burn. Thankful she and Wyatt had a corner booth, and not one of the tables in the middle of the room.
When Mel left the table, Wyatt went to the juke box and selected a couple of classic rock songs.
“What songs did you pick?”
“Love Me Tender.”
“And?”
“Love Me Tender.”
“Twice?”
“Yep. It’s what you do to me,” he whispered in her ear. “Food’s getting cold.” He winked.
She smiled and ate her bun-less burger and started on the side salad, while he munched on fries before devouring a huge cheddar cheese double burger with mushrooms.
“I’ve been all over the country, but I like it here.” He wiped mustard from his chin and grinned again.
“You mean Mel’s or Sierra Creek?”
“Both,” he said. “When I was a kid with the bad memories of my parent’s divorce, I dreamed of living anywhere but this town.”
“Yet you never did.”
“No. Traveling on the rodeo circuit cured me of that notion.” He pushed his empty plate to the middle of the table and leaned back. “I needed that.”
“When you left Sierra Creek to join the rodeo it must have been like joining the circus.”
Wyatt swallowed a gulp of coffee. “I guess, never thought of it that way. I was eighteen and free to do whatever I wanted as long as I didn’t get arrested and I could get on the horse when I was scheduled.”
“Every young guy’s dream.”
Wyatt shrugged. “Can’t say I’d recommend the life for Bobby. In fact, when he’s eighteen I’ll kick his butt if he doesn’t go to college.”
Amy startled at the thought of her son getting his butt kicked even metaphorically, but then she laughed. “The way he gets excited every time you give him a new book—I don’t think that’s going to be a problem. He’s already saying he wants to be a vet.”
“Well, that might come in real handy.” Wyatt finished his coffee.
Silent for a moment, she sipped her diet drink and listened to a classic rock ballad someone had selected.
“So where did you go when you first went on the circuit?”
“To every corner of the country, from midsized towns to big cities.” He paused. “I saw the places and thought about living there. Somehow Sierra Creek always called me home.”
“I’m glad.” Under the table, she put her hand on his knee. “If you’d moved away you wouldn’t have been here when I came back.”
Amy looked up to see a teenage girl at the table phone in hand.
“Can I have a selfie with you, Wyatt?”
“Sure.” If he was bothered by the request he didn’t let on outwardly.
“Move, lady. I don’t want you in the picture.”
She groaned and slid away from him. Was this going to happen every time they went out in public? Annoyance clawed at her. At least the young teen hadn’t asked him to sign her body. She almost laughed at the thought of how he’d react.
When the girl left, he patted the seat next to him. “Come home.” He put his arm around her shoulder and said, “Sorry about that. I wanted to warn you, but didn’t get a chance until now. I did another TV ad that has started running on social media and on TV. This could happen more and more often.”
“But you said you hated doing commercials and being spotted.”
“I do. But it’s a good product line and they offered so much money I couldn’t refuse. This could mean there’d be enough to get the mill up and running soon. Think what that would mean. Financial independence.”
“That would be wonderful.” She agreed, but selfishly wondered if she could laugh when the fans happened to be grown women and not young teen aged girls. She trusted Wyatt, but he was only a man. She remembered Charlene, the woman who’d kissed on him his lips and called him sugar right in front of everyone on Main Street.
“Wyatt, let’s get out of here, before another teen recognizes you.”