- -
- 100%
- +
Once they reached the residential area that surrounded Rescue River’s downtown, Angelica’s stomach knotted. Everyone in town knew about what she’d done to Troy, their beloved high school quarterback and brilliant veterinarian and all-around good guy. No doubt her own reputation was in the gutter.
There was the town’s famous sign, dating back to Civil War years when the tiny farm community had been home to several safe houses on the Underground Railroad:
Rescue River, Ohio.
All Are Welcome, All Are Safe.
Funny, she didn’t feel so safe now. She cruised past the bank and the feed store, and then thoughts of herself vanished when she saw the line of people snaking around the building that housed Troy’s veterinary practice. “Wow. Looks like your clinic is a success.”
“Lots of people struggling these days.”
“It’s free?”
He nodded, pointed. “Park right in front. They always save me a place.”
She noticed a few familiar faces turning toward their truck. Someone ran to take a lawn chair out of the single remaining parking spot and she pulled in, stopped and went around to see if Troy needed help getting out. But he’d already hopped down, so she grabbed his crutches out of the back and took them to him.
“Here.” She handed him the crutches, and his large, calloused hand brushed hers.
Something fluttered inside her chest. She yanked her hand back, dropping a crutch in the process.
“Hey, that you, Angie? Little Angie?”
She turned to see a tall, skinny man, his thin hair pulled back in a ponytail, his face stubbly. She cocked her head to one side. “Derek? Derek Moseley?”
“It is you!” He flung an easy arm around her and she shrugged away, and then suddenly Troy was there, stepping between them. “Whoa, my friend,” he said. “Easy on my assistant.”
“I’m fine!” She took another sidestep away.
Derek lifted his hands like stop signs. “Just saying hi to my old buddy’s little sister, Doc.” He turned to Angelica. “Girl, I ain’t seen you in ages. How’s your brother?”
She shook her head. “I don’t see him much myself. He’s overseas, doing mission work.”
“Carlo? A missionary?”
“Well, something like that.” In reality, her brother, Carlo, was halfway between a missionary and a mercenary, taking the word of God to people in remote areas where he was as likely to be met with a machete as a welcome.
“Carlo’s a great guy. Tell him I said hello.”
“I will.” That evaluation was spot-on—her brother was a great guy. Carlo was the one who’d gone to Gramps and told him he had to take her in when their parents’ behavior had gone way out of control. He’d been sixteen; she’d been nine. He’d gone out on his own then, had his dark and dangerous times, but now he’d found Jesus and reformed. He wrote often, sent money even though she told him not to, probably more than he could afford. But she didn’t see him enough and she wished he’d come home. Especially now, with Xavier’s health so bad.
A shuffling sound broke into her consciousness. She looked around for Troy and saw him working his way toward the clinic on his crutches, large medical bag clutched awkwardly at his side.
She hurried to him. “Here, let me carry that.”
“I can get it.”
Stepping in front of him, she took hold of the bag. “Probably, but not very well. This is what you’re paying me for.”
He held on to the bag a second longer and then let it go. “Fine.”
As they walked toward the clinic, people greeted Troy, thanked him for being there, asked about his leg. The line seemed endless. Most people held dogs on leads, but a few had cat carriers. One man sat on a bench beside an open-topped cardboard box holding a chicken.
How would Troy ever take care of all these people? “The clinic’s only until noon, right? Do you have help?”
“A vet tech, whenever he gets here. And I stay until I’ve seen everyone. We work hard. You up for this?”
She was and they did work hard; he wasn’t lying. The morning flew by with pet after pet. She held leashes for Pomeranians and pit bulls, got scratched by a frightened tomcat with a ripped ear and comforted a twenty-something girl who cried when her two fluffy fur-ball puppies, one black and one white, had to get shots. She wrote down the particulars of rescue situations people told Troy about. Dogs needed rabies shots and ear medicine, X-rays and spaying. If it was something he couldn’t do right at the moment, he made a plan to do it later in the week.
She asked once, “Can you even do surgery, with your leg?”
“My leg doesn’t hurt as much as that guy’s hurting,” he said, scratching the droopy ears of a basset-beagle mix with a swollen stomach. The owner was pretty sure he’d swallowed a baby’s Binky. “Feed him canned pumpkin to help things along,” he told the owner. “If he doesn’t pass it within three days, or if he’s in more pain, call me.”
A fiftysomething lady came in with a small, scruffy white dog wrapped in a towel. “Afraid he’s got to be put to sleep, Doc.” Her voice broke as she lifted the skinny animal to the metal exam table.
Angelica moved closer and patted the woman’s back, feeling completely ineffectual. She wanted to help, but sometimes there wasn’t anything you could do.
“Let’s not jump to that conclusion.” Troy picked up the whimpering little creature, ignoring its feeble effort to bite at him. He felt carefully around the dog’s abdomen and examined its eyes and ears. “I’m guessing pancreatitis,” he said finally, “but we’ll need to do some blood work to be sure.”
“What’s that mean, Doc?” the woman asked. “I don’t have much extra money...and I don’t want him to suffer.” She buried her face in her hands.
Angelica’s throat ached. She could identify. She found a box of tissues and brought it over.
“Hey.” Troy put a hand on the woman’s shoulder. “Let’s give treatment a try. If you can’t afford the medicine, we’ll work something out.”
“Is he even likely to live?”
“Fifty-fifty,” Troy admitted. “But I’m not a quitter. We can bring the dog to the farm if you don’t have time to do the treatments. Aren’t you a night waitress out at the truck stop?”
She nodded. “That’s the other thing. I can’t stick around home to care for him. I gotta work to pay my rent.”
“Let me take him to the farm, then,” Troy said. “It’s worth it. He may have years of running around left. Don’t you want me to try?”
“You’d really do that for him?” Hope lit the woman’s face as she carefully picked up the little dog and cradled him to her chest. When she looked up, her eyes shone. “You don’t know how much this means to me, Doc. He’s been with me through two divorces and losing my day job and a bout with cancer. I want to be able to give back to him. I’ll donate all my tips when I get them.”
“Give what you can. That’s all I ask.” He told Angelica what to do next and took the dog away.
A man in jeans and a scrub top strode into the clinic then, and Angelica studied him as he greeted Troy. He must be the vet tech they’d been waiting for.
“Buck,” Troy said. “How goes it?”
Buck. So that was why he looked so familiar—he was an old classmate, one of the nicer boys. “Hey,” she greeted him. “Remember me?”
“Is that you, Angie?” A smile lit his eyes. “Haven’t seen you in forever. How’s your grandpa?”
They chatted for a few minutes while Troy entered data into a computer, preparing for the next appointment. Buck kept smiling and stepped a little closer, and Angelica recognized what was happening: he like liked her, as her girlfriends back in Boston would say. She took a step away.
And then it dawned on her: Buck would be a perfect guy to help fulfill Xavier’s dream. Oh, not to marry, she couldn’t go that far, but if she could find a nice, harmless man to hang out with some in the evenings, watch some family shows with, play board games with...that didn’t sound half-bad. Xavier would be thrilled.
Come on, flirt with the man. You used to be good at it.
But she barely remembered how to talk to a man that way. And anyway, it felt like lying. How could she pretend to have an interest in a nice guy like Buck just to make her son happy? Maybe this wasn’t such a good plan after all.
When Troy came back, ready for the next patient, Buck cocked his head to one side. “Are you two together? I remember you used to—”
“No!” they both said at the same time.
“Whoa, okay! I just thought you were engaged, back in the day.”
Angelica felt her face heat. “I’m just his assistant while he gets back on his feet,” she explained as the next patient came in.
“Glad to hear you’ve come to your senses about him,” Buck joked.
Troy’s lips tightened and he turned away, limping over to greet a couple with a cat carrier who’d just walked in.
“You back in town for a while?” Buck looked at Angelica with sharpened interest.
“Yes. For a...a little while.”
“Long enough to have dinner with an old friend?”
He was asking her out. To dinner, and really, what would be the harm? This was what she wanted.
“Sure,” she said. “I’ll have dinner with you.”
“Saturday night? Where are you staying?” He touched her shoulder to usher her over to the side of the exam area, and she forced herself not to pull away.
They agreed on a time and exchanged phones to punch in numbers.
When she looked up, Troy was watching them, eyes narrowed, jaw set.
She shook her hair back. There was no reason for him to feel possessive. What had been between them was long gone.
So why did she feel so guilty?
Chapter Three
By the time they’d gotten back to the farm, it was suppertime and Troy’s blood was boiling as hot as the pot of pasta on the stove.
Did Angelica have to make her date plans right in front of him? And with Buck Armstrong?
But it wasn’t his business, and he had no reason to care. He just needed some time to himself.
Which apparently he wasn’t going to get, because the minute they set down their things, Xavier was pulling at his hand. “Mr. Troy, Mr. Troy, we’re all going to have dinner together!”
Great. He smiled down at the boy. How was he going to get out of this?
“Xavier, honey.” Angelica knelt down beside her son. “We’ll have dinner at the bunkhouse. We can’t impose.”
She tugged the ponytail holder out of her hair, and the shiny locks flowed down her back. Her hand kneaded Xavier’s shoulder. She was all loving mother.
And all woman.
“But, Mama! Wait till you see what Miss Lou Ann and me cooked!”
Lou Ann rubbed Xavier’s bald head. “I’m sorry, Angelica. I told him we could probably all eat together. We picked zucchini and tomatoes from the garden and cooked up some of that ratatouille.”
“And we made a meat loaf, and I got to mix it up with my hands!”
The boy sounded so happy. Troy’s throat tightened as he thought about how Angelica must feel, cherishing every moment with him and wondering at the same time whether he’d ever make meat loaf again, whether this was the last chance for this particular activity.
Angelica glanced up at him, eyebrows raised. “Maybe we’ll get together another time. Mr. Troy’s been working all day and he’s tired. Let’s let him rest.”
What was he supposed to do now, squash down all of this joy? And he had to admit that the thought of having company for dinner in the farmhouse kitchen didn’t sound half-bad, except that the pretty woman opposite him was hankering after another man.
At the thought of Angelica dating Buck Armstrong, something dark twisted his insides. With everything he knew about Buck, he should warn her off, and yet it would serve her right to go out with him and find out what he was really like.
“Can we stay, Mr. Troy?”
He looked at the boy’s hopeful eyes. “Of course.” His words sounded so grudging that he added, “Sounds like a good meal you fixed.”
“It is good, and wait till you see dessert!”
By the time Xavier helped Lou Ann serve dessert—sliced pound cake, topped with berries and whipped cream—he looked beat. But his smile was joyous. “I had so much fun this afternoon, Mama!”
Troy praised the food, which was really good, thanks he was sure to Lou Ann’s guidance. But his stomach was turning, wouldn’t let him really enjoy it.
Angelica looked beautiful at the other end of the table, her black hair tumbling down past her shoulders and her cheeks pink as apples. And now, with Xavier so happy, she didn’t seem as worried as usual; the little line that tended to live between her eyebrows was gone, and her smile flashed frequently as Xavier described all that he and Lou Ann had done that day.
Troy had always wanted this. He wanted a warm, beautiful woman and cute, enthusiastic children at his table, wanted to be the man of the family. And this sweet, feisty pair seemed to fit right into his home and his heart. But he had to keep reminding himself that this wasn’t his and it wouldn’t last.
Looking at Xavier, he couldn’t believe the child had been so sick and might relapse at any moment. Yeah, he was drooping, getting tired, but he was so full of life that it made no sense that God might take him away.
Any more than it made sense that God would put him and his siblings in a loveless family, let alone give Angelica all the heartaches she’d endured growing up, but that was God for you—making sense wasn’t what He was about. That was why Troy had stopped trusting Him, starting taking most things into his own hands. He believed, sure; he just didn’t trust. And he sure didn’t want to join the men’s Bible study his friend Dion was always bugging him about.
“This little one needs to get to bed,” Lou Ann said. “Troy, I know you can’t carry much with those crutches, but why don’t you at least help her with the doors and such?”
“Oh, you don’t have to—” Angelica stood, looking suddenly uncomfortable. “We’ve already taken too much of your time. We can make it.”
But Troy moved to intercept her protest. “Come on, pal. Let’s get you out to bed.”
Angelica started gathering Xavier’s pills and toys and snacks together, stuffing them into a Spider-Man backpack. Before she could bend to pick Xavier up, Troy leaned on one crutch, steadied himself with a hip against the table and picked up the boy himself. He was amazingly light. He nestled right against Troy’s chest and Troy felt his heart break a little. He glanced over at Angelica and saw that she had tears in her eyes. “Ready?” he asked. Then, gently, he put her son in her arms, taking the boy’s backpack to carry himself.
She bit her lip, turned and headed off, and he grabbed his crutches and followed her. They walked out to the bunkhouse together and Troy helped Angelica lay Xavier in his bed, noticing the homey touches Angelica had put around—a teddy bear, a poster of a baseball player, a hand-knitted afghan in shades of blue and brown. It was a boy’s room, and it should be filling up with trophies from Little League games. They said every kid got a trophy these days, and wasn’t that awful? But not Xavier. This kid hadn’t had the opportunity to play baseball.
Not yet.
Angelica knelt beside the bed. “Let’s thank God for today.”
“Thank You, God, for letting me cook dinner. And for Lou Ann. And the dogs.”
Angelica was holding Xavier’s hand. “Thank You for giving us food and love and each other.”
“Bless all the people who don’t have so much,” they said together.
“And, God, please get me a daddy before...” Xavier trailed off, turned over.
Whoa. Troy’s throat tightened.
“Night, sweetie, sleep tight.” Angelica’s voice sounded choked.
“Don’t let the bedbugs... Love you, Mama.” The words were fading off and the boy was asleep.
They both stood looking down at him, Troy on one side of the bed and Angelica on the other.
“Did he say he wants a...dad?” Troy ventured finally.
Angelica nodded.
“Does his dad ever spend time with him?”
She looked up at him. “No. Never.”
“Does he even know him?”
Her lips tightened. “I... Look, Troy, I don’t want to talk about that.”
“Sure.” But he’d like to strangle the guy who’d loved and left her, and not just because he remembered how difficult it had been to keep his hands off Angelica back when they were engaged. He took a deep breath and loosened his tightly clasped fists. She’d gotten pregnant with Xavier right around the time she left town, so was Xavier’s dad—the jerk—from here or from elsewhere? She hadn’t married him, apparently, but... “If the guy knew Xavier, knew what he was like and what he’s facing, surely he’d be willing—”
“No.”
“No?”
“Just...no, okay?” She stood and stalked out to the living room, and Troy wondered whether he’d ever stop putting his plaster-covered foot in his mouth around her.
* * *
The next Saturday, Angelica touched up her hair with a curling wand and applied blush and mascara. And tried not to throw up.
She didn’t want to go out on a date. But there was no other way to get Xavier off her case.
In fact, he was beside her now, hugging her leg. “You never had a date before, Mama.”
She laughed. “Yes, I did. Back in the day. Before you.”
“Did you go on dates with my dad?”
All Xavier knew was that his father had died. He hadn’t ever asked whether Angelica and his father had been married, and Angelica hoped he didn’t go there any time soon. For now, she would stick as close to the truth as possible. “No, not with him, but with a few other guys.” She tried to deflect his attention. “Just like I’m doing now. Do I look all right?”
“You’re beautiful, Mama.”
She hugged him. “Thanks, Zavey Davey. You’re kinda cute yourself.”
“Do I get to meet him? Because I want to see, you know, if he’s the right kind of guy for us.”
“My little protector. You can meet him sometime, but not now. Miss Lou Ann is going to come over and play with you. And I think I hear her now.”
Sure enough, there was a knock on the bunkhouse door. Xavier ran over to get it while Angelica fussed with herself a little more. She’d much rather just stay home with Xavier tonight. What if Buck tried something? She knew him to be a nice guy, but still...
“Well, how’s my little friend for the evening?” Lou Ann asked, pinching Xavier’s cheek. “You set up for a Candy Land marathon, or are we building a fort out of sheets and chairs?”
“You’ll build a fort with me?” Xavier’s eyes turned worshipful. “Mom always says it’s too messy.”
“It’s only too messy if we don’t clean up later. And we will, right?”
“Right. I’ll get the extra sheets.”
As soon as he was out of the room, Lou Ann turned to Angelica. “You look pretty,” she said. “Somebody’s already cranky, and when he sees you looking like that...” She smacked her lips. “Sparks are gonna fly.”
That was the last thing she needed. Her face heated and she changed the subject. “Xavier can stay up until eight-thirty. He gets his meds and a snack half an hour before bed.” She showed Lou Ann the pills and the basket of approved snacks.
“That’s easy. Don’t worry about us.” Lou Ann leaned back and looked out the window. “I think your friend just pulled in.”
“I wanna see him!” Xavier rushed toward the window, dropping the stack of sheets he’d been carrying.
“Well,” Lou Ann said, “that’s just fine, because I want to claim the best spot in the fort.”
Xavier spun back to Lou Ann. “I’m king of the fort!”
“You’d better get over here and help me, then.”
Thank you, Angelica mouthed to Lou Ann, and slipped out the door.
Buck emerged from his black pickup, looking good from his long jean-clad legs to his slightly shaggy brown curls. Any girl would feel fortunate to be dating such a cute guy, Angelica told herself, trying to lighten the lead weight in her stomach.
He’s a nice guy. And it’s for Xavier. “Hi there!”
“Well, don’t you look pretty!” He walked toward her, loose limbed.
To her right, the front door of the main house opened. Troy. He came out on the porch and stood, arms crossed. For all the world as if he were her father.
She narrowed her eyes at him, trying to ignore his rougher style of handsome, the way his broad shoulders, leaning on his crutches, strained the seams of his shirt. She was through with Troy Hinton, and he was most certainly through with her, wouldn’t want anything to do with her if he knew the truth.
She deliberately returned her attention to Buck. He reached her and opened his arms.
Really? Was a big hug normal on a first date? It had been so long...and she’d been so young... She took a deep breath and allowed him to hug her, at the same time wrinkling her nose. Something was wrong...
“Baby, it’s great to see you. Man, feels good to hug a woman.” Buck’s words were slurred. And yes, that smell was alcohol, covered with a whole lot of peppermint.
She tried to pull back, but he didn’t let go.
Panic rose in her. She stepped hard onto his foot. “Let go,” she said, loud, right in his ear.
From the corner of her eye, the sight of Troy made her feel secure.
“Sorry!” Buck stepped back. “I didn’t mean...I was just glad...oh man, you look so good.” He moved as though he was going to hug her again.
She sidestepped. “Buck. How much have you had to drink?”
“What?” He put an arm around her and started guiding her toward his truck. “I had a drink before I came over. One drink. Don’t get uptight.”
Could that be true? Without a doubt, she was uptight around men. But this felt wrong in a different way. “Wait a minute. I...I think we should talk a little bit before we go.”
“Sure!” He shifted direction, guiding her toward a bench and plopping down too hard, knocking into her so that she sat down hard, too.
She drew in a breath and let it out in a sigh. He was drunk, all right. It wasn’t just her being paranoid. But now, how did she get rid of him?
“I really like you, Angelica,” he said, putting an arm around her. He pulled her closer.
She scooted away. “Look, Buck, I can’t...I don’t think I can go out with you. You’ve had too much to drink.”
“One drink!” He sounded irritated.
Angelica stood and backed away. Couldn’t something, just once, be easy? “Sorry, friend, but I can’t get in the truck with you. And you shouldn’t be driving, either.”
There was a sound of booted feet, and then Troy was beside her. “She’s right, Buck.”
“What you doing here, Hinton?”
“I live here, as you very well know.”
“Well, I’m taking this little lady out for a meal, once—”
“You’re not going anywhere except home. As soon as your sister gets here to pick you up.”
“Oh man, you didn’t call Lacey!” Buck staggered to his feet, his hand going to his pocket. He pulled out truck keys. “This has been a bust.”
Angelica glanced at Troy, willing him to let her handle it. She had plenty of experience with drunk people, starting with her own parents. “Can I see the car keys a minute?”
He held them out, hope lighting up his face. “You gonna come after all? I’ll let you drive.”
She took the keys. “I’m not going, and sorry, but you’re not fit to drive yourself, either.”
He lunged to get them back and Troy stuck out a crutch to trip him. “You’re not welcome on this property until you’re sober.”
Angelica kept backing off while, in the distance, a Jeep made clouds on the dusty road. That must be Buck’s sister.
So she could go home now. Back inside. Face Xavier and tell him the date was off.
Except she couldn’t, because tears were filling her eyes and blurring her vision. She blinked hard and backed up as far as the porch steps while Troy greeted the woman who’d squealed up in the Jeep.
The woman pushed past Troy, poked a finger in Buck’s chest and proceeded to chew him out. Then she and Troy helped him into the passenger seat. They stood beside the Jeep for a minute, talking.