over and, as he had done so many times in the past, affectionately stroked an uncooperative strand of hair out of her face. Even as he did so, Paul caught himself. Once she would have waited eagerly for any sign of attention, but no longer. She belonged to another, and his rights to touch and console had been abrogated.
Amy pulled back, confirming his thoughts.
She doodled a moment, biting her lip, a faint blush staining her cheeks. “I can’t because I don’t have a truck. The fuel pump went this morning. It gave me trouble when I hauled Sandover to the auction mart on my way to work, but I thought it would last for a bit yet.”
“Did you get a decent amount for the beast?”
“Enough. We got back what we paid for him so I’m happy.”
“You don’t sound happy.”
Amy frowned. “I would have liked to keep him and work with him some more. He had a lot of potential.”
“And a wicked kick,” Paul added, touching the elbow of her sore arm.
“Amy,” Judd called again from the living room.
“What?” Amy turned in her chair and winced with pain at the sudden movement.
“Nothing. If you’re too busy yapping with Henderson, don’t bother.”
Amy rolled her eyes, got up and walked to the living room, supporting her sore arm. Paul decided to face Judd head-on and followed her.
Judd Danyluk lay stretched out in a worn recliner, a pair of crutches leaning against it. The bright afghan tucked over his legs served as a sharp contrast to the cracked vinyl and thread-bare armrests. Paul had seldom been in this room. In the Cariboo most visiting was done with elbows propped on a kitchen table, nursing a cup of coffee or tea.
“What’s the matter, Dad?” Amy’s voice lost its impatient edge, her hand resting lightly on his.
Judd was rubbing his eyes, frowning. “I can’t see real great. It’s like everything’s blurry.”
“How’s your heart feel? Are you having any pain going down your arm?”
“It’s my eyes, Amy, not my heart.” Judd glared up at her and blinked again. He shook his head and then frowned. “I don’t know why I can’t see so good.”
“Does it hurt?”
Judd shook his head, looking around. “No. Just feels funny.”
“You’ve got your regular checkup coming up, you can ask the doctor then.”
“I suppose.” Judd pushed himself up. “Oh, hello, Henderson.” Judd acknowledged Paul’s presence with a curt nod, then turned back to Amy. “Who were you talking to?”
“Case IH. I’m trying to straighten out a mix-up with parts.” She crossed her arms, supporting her shoulder, and frowned as she looked down at her father. Paul had to smile at the sight. As long as he could remember Amy was almost as much a mother to Judd as daughter—bullying him into helping on the ranch, making him go outside, eat properly, get out and visit other people, reminding him to do his devotions.
“And you’re not going to talk about canceling your doctor’s appointment.”
“I told you I would go.” Judd glowered at her, and Amy stared back.
“You canceled the last two.”
“I’ll go.”
“I know you will. I’m going to take you in,” Amy said as she turned and left.
Paul watched as she carefully bent over to tie her boots, heavily favoring her sore shoulder. He wanted to go and help, but figured he wouldn’t be welcomed. His ego was wounded at her offhand treatment. He didn’t know what it was he wanted from her, but he did know it wasn’t this casual attitude. Time for him to leave.
The phone rang again, and Amy straightened with a sigh.
“Do you want me to get it?” Paul offered.
She shook her head and strode over to the table. She picked up the phone, turning away from him and Judd.
Judd straightened his recliner and reached for a deck of cards beside him. “Have time for a game of crib?”
Paul didn’t really want to. It was a strange turn of events. Amy, who always listened, who always had time to talk, obviously didn’t want him here, whereas Judd, who could hardly speak a civil word to him, was inviting him to stay. The old guy must be mellowing, he thought. And Amy had outgrown him.
He turned back to Judd and pulled up a chair.
As Judd silently dealt the cards, Paul tried to ignore her as she spoke on the phone.
“You’re going to buy a car?” she exclaimed to whoever was on the other end. “How in the world can you afford it?”
Paul picked up his cards and glanced up as the porch door opened. Rick entered the kitchen, frowning.
“I might be able to drive you. Rick’s been working on our truck.” Paul saw her glance hopefully at her brother who lifted his hands in resignation. “Nope. I don’t have a vehicle,” she said, frustration edging her voice. “It would work out great. I have a tractor part to pick up in Prince George, and I know I owe you big-time but I just can’t. I’d drive the tractor if I could, but Rick’s got it in pieces all over the garage floor.”
Paul looked down at his cards, discarded two and tried to ignore Amy’s obvious distress.
“I know, Shannon, I’m sorry. Yes, I’ll let you know if anything changes. Take care.” She hung up the phone with a loud click.
He looked up in time to see her sag against the counter, her lips tight, her eyes shut. She looked like she was in pain. He couldn’t take it any longer. He set his cards down on the table and got up.
“You ain’t quitting already?” Judd accused, turning to watch as Paul strode to the kitchen.
Paul stood in front of Amy, waiting for her to notice him. She finally opened her eyes. “You can use my car, Amy.”
“No. Thanks, anyway.” She straightened and moved to get past him.
He took a step to the side, blocking her passage. “Don’t be so stubborn. You can’t do much work with that shoulder, you may as well go pick up that part, and this way I can help out Shannon as well. I owe her, too.” Paul remembered with a sudden moment’s regret, a date with Shannon Lawson over seven years ago. She had pestered him to take her to a local dance. When she got more serious than he intended the date to be, he talked Rick into taking her home. It had happened many years and a lot of girlfriends ago. She teased him about it each time he came home; her offhand treatment of the fiasco made him pass it off. But now, with too many comments from his family ringing in his ears, he felt as if he should somehow try to make up for it.
Amy bit her lip as if contemplating, glanced over at Rick, who looked as if he would sooner eat nails than allow her to accept Paul’s offer. “No I don’t think
