He gave up his apartment. He has no family to take care of him while he recovers. He is due to leave for Venezuela at the end of next week.”
“Doesn’t sound like he’s going to make his flight,” Brittnie said in a dry tone.
Mary Jane looked at all three of her daughters, then focused on Becca. “He can come out to the ranch. I’ll take care of him.”
Becca stared at her. “Absolutely not You’re right in the middle of calving, soon you’ll be moving the herd... There’s no way you could take on a patient—and believe me, Clay is not the best of patients.”
“Yes,” Shannon broke in. “I remember the time he sprained his wrist. He couldn’t drive, work, or even cut his own meat.”
All four women winced in unison. They remembered all too well because it had happened on a visit home to the ranch. They had all suffered his bad temper together. They had understood that his surliness was due to his reluctance to be dependent on anyone, but that hadn’t made it easier to bear.
Before they could continue the discussion, a nurse approached and said Becca’s son was asking for her. With a quick wave to her family and a promise that she would come for them when they could see Jimmy, she hurried off to the pediatrics ward of the small hospital.
In his room, Jimmy sat up in bed, looking about with a frightened expression and tear-filled eyes. When he saw Becca, he started crying. She folded him into her arms and murmured reassurances. After a few minutes he calmed down so she eased him back against the pillow and kissed him.
“Where’s my daddy?” he asked as Becca stroked his dark hair away from his face.
“He’s in another room.”
“Well, tell him to come here. I wanna see him,” her son insisted in a petulant tone.
“He was hurt in the accident, too, remember? He has to stay in his bed.”
Jimmy moved restlessly. “I wanna go see him in his room.”
“Jimmy, honey, I haven’t even seen him myself yet.”
“Is he dead?”
“No, no, of course not.” Becca knew that her son still had vague memories of his grandfather’s death and even though he didn’t know exactly what death meant, he knew he didn’t like the way it made him feel when someone died.
“You and me can go see him.”
Becca sighed. She knew he wouldn’t rest until he had seen Clay and been reassured that he was all right. “I’ll go see if he feels like talking to us, but first I’ll get Grandma and Shannon and Brittnie to come in here with you.”
“Okay,” he agreed. At last, he lay against the pillows and closed his eyes. Becca hurried off to summon her mother and sisters, and while they sat with Jimmy as he began to drift off to sleep, she went in search of Clay’s room.
She found him in another wing of the hospital. He was asleep. There was a bandage across the cut on his forehead and his right eye was swollen. The cast on his leg came up to his thigh and was propped up in a sling over the bed to relieve pressure on his hip.
Becca paused in the doorway, then entered slowly, her gaze fixed on him. For some reason, her mind insisted on conjuring up the image of a fallen warrior, which was ridiculous. He was a mining engineer, not a soldier. Still, the image lingered in her mind.
Becca was glad to see that the other bed in his room was empty and she wouldn’t be disturbing anyone else by pulling up a chair and sitting for a few minutes while she waited for him to wake.
Wearily, she sank into the chair and stretched her feet out in front of her. It was such a relief to sit calmly after the fright and worry of the past two hours and to know that both Clay and Jimmy were going to be all right. She didn’t know what they were going to do about finding a place for Clay to recover. As she had reminded her family, he had no one else. He’d never known his father and had been abandoned by his mother before his tenth birthday to be raised in a series of foster homes. After he’d reached adulthood, he’d made no effort to locate his mother or any member of her family.
- When Jimmy was a baby, she had tried to convince Clay to contact his mother, but he had refused. He wanted nothing to do with her. Becca had been very disturbed by his adamant denial that his mother had any rights to know her grandson. He’d refused to discuss his reasons or listen to her arguments.
That had been only one of the many things wrong with their marriage, she thought sadly. They hadn’t discussed things. When a problem arose, Clay either took care of it on his own or clammed up about it. She was accustomed to a family who talked things over—often at loud volume—and he was used to handling everything himself. Neither of them had been able to change.
She knew when he woke up, he was going to be difficult. When they had been married, he had rarely been sick and if he was, he had wanted only to be left alone. He hated being dependent on anyone, especially her, now that they were divorced.
Watching him in his helplessness, she felt a flurry of emotions she couldn’t quite sort out. She had long ago come to accept the reality that a small part of her would always love him. After all, he was the father of her son. Jimmy’s self-confidence and perseverance were traits he had inherited from Clay.
Jimmy had always been the kind of child who liked to do things for himself. In fact, his first words had been “By myself.” Clay was the same way—complete unto himself.
She often worried that the closeness she now shared with Jimmy would change over the years until he was closed off to her as Clay was. She dreaded that day.
Along with the love she still felt for Clay, she experienced sorrow and regret, but overriding it all was relief that their battles were over. She had a new life now and soon she would be sharing it with calm, predictable Barry in a permanent home of her own.
She cast Clay a guilty glance. She knew she should have told him about her engagement to Barry, and she certainly should have told Jimmy. It was pure cowardice on her part that she hadn’t done so, but she hadn’t wanted to argue with him again. They’d argued anyway, and look what had come of it.
Becca started when the phone rang and she grabbed it quickly so it wouldn’t wake Clay. He stirred, though, and she picked up the phone and moved as far from him as possible. Cupping the receiver close to her mouth, she answered in a near whisper. “Hello?”
“Rebecca?” Barry Whelker’s voice came over the line.
“Barry,” she said in relief. “I’m so glad you called. How did you know where to find me?”
“I couldn’t get you at your house, and there was no answer at your mother’s, so I got your neighbor’s number from directory assistance. They told me what had happened. How are Jimmy and Clay?”
Becca smiled, feeling steadied by the even tone of his voice. Trust Barry to show his resourcefulness in tracking her down and his thoughtfulness by calling her right away. Such thoughtfulness was one of the things she found most appealing about him, both as a boss and a fiancé.
“They’re going to be all right,” she said. While Barry listened and made concerned sounds, she rapidly ran through a description of Jimmy’s and Clay’s injuries.
Immediately,
