recognized the damage instantly. The distress he saw in her eyes two days ago in Leigh’s bedroom was there once more. “I would never do that,” she whispered.
“Dammit. You know what I’m trying to say.”
She poked out her chin. “Message received.” The hurt vanished in a wake of quiet dignity. “Excuse me, but I have cows to see, barns to roam, manure to clear.” She walked away and disappeared into another section of the building.
Michael stood in the hushed milking parlor, in the musk of animal and hay, and thought, You expect more than I can give.
That was the crux of it, wasn’t it? He could not give Jenni what she needed any more than he could grant life to Leigh. Would he ever master this feeling of helplessness? This terror of knowing how inadequate he was?
Ah, Leigh. You knew, didn’t you?
Just as he’d known, the minute they’d unloaded her off the ambulance, that she was critical. He’d known with one glance she wouldn’t make it, known as he’d jogged beside the trauma bed speeding through the electronic doors of the limited twenty-bed hospital. Her raspy voice still tore at him….
“Michael…promise me.”
“Shh. Don’t talk, sis. I’m here.”
“Promise.” She touched weak fingers to his wrist. Internal damage, he knew, drained strength.
Tears stung his eyes. “Sis, you’re okay. Hear me?” Even to his own ears the statement rang false. Another night and he wouldn’t have been the doctor on call. Another night and it would have been his associate’s turn.
Rushing down the tiled corridor, the paramedic at the helm of the long board said, “She was a passenger in an MVA, Doc.”
“Air bag?”
“No. A ’91 pickup, horse trailer in tow.”
Michael knew the vehicle. Old and banged up from too many haulings. Why hadn’t they taken the Ford F350 to that auction?
“Get me two large bore IVs,” he barked as they spun into emergency and a nurse dashed off. “Vitals?”
“Pulse rate 140—”
“BP’s eighty over fifty—dropping!”
The IVs were suddenly in his hands. “Run warm ringer’s lactate wide open, both IVs!” The nurse on his left disappeared. “And get X ray and lab down here! I want a C.B.C., lytes, B.U.N., creatinine, glucose, type and cross-match six units—now!”
In the end none of it, not one thing he’d given her, had helped. He looked around the cement and tiled alleyway of the barn where he still stood. Turning, he strode out into the heavy evening air. Damn memories.
“So, you’re the one.” A scratchy female voice spoke through the open doorway.
Shanna looked up from the last of the canned goods she was storing in the pantry. After milking, she’d run into Blue Springs for groceries. Now, a tiny, white-haired woman in tan cowboy boots, jeans and a poet’s blouse stood leaning on a cane on the threshold of the door Shanna had propped wide for a breeze of cool evening air.
Michael Rowan’s grandmother.
Same high-boned cheeks, resolute jaw and hawk nose.
Beside her on the stoop, Jenni, dressed in a pink jumpsuit, clutched Octavia and a miniature red-and-blue knapsack.
The matriarch stepped inside. Behind brown-rimmed glasses, she judged the room from corner to ceiling to floor.
“Well,” the old lady said, her eyes as intense as her grandson’s. “You’ve certainly made a mark.”
You haven’t seen nothing yet. “Why don’t you come in, ma’am. Hey, Jenni. Want a cookie?”
The little girl nodded with a shy smile.
The old lady spied the coffeemaker. “That brew fresh?”
“As tomorrow’s dawn.” Shanna took out two mugs and filled them.
“You’re quick. Got a wit, too. Well-shaped legs. Good qualities. Skirt’s a mite short, but then this isn’t my era.”
Shanna choked back a laugh. Granny or not, she was like an auctioneer citing the record of an animal in the ring.
“I’m Katherine Rowan, by the way. Michael’s grandmother.” She didn’t offer a hand. “Friends call me Kate.”
“Shanna McKay. Cream, sugar?”
“Black.”
Kate settled at the kitchen table with her cane across her knees. Jenni sat on the couch with Octavia and began plucking the little tea set Shanna had seen in the main house from the knapsack.
Kate pursed her lips. Her gray eyes pinned Shanna. “You’re not afraid, are you?”
“Of what?”
“Me.”
Shanna set two mugs on the table and gave the child a large chocolate chip cookie and a glass of milk. She stroked Jenni’s hair, then slipped into a chair. “Should I be afraid of you?”
“I’ve put the run on a few hired hands in my day.”
“Maybe you had grounds to do so. But, if I leave it won’t be because I’ve sloughed up on the job.”
“I like you, Shanna McKay. I believe you and I will get along very well.”
“I agree.”
They grinned at each other.
“Grammy?” Jenni came to stand by the woman’s knee.
“What, child? Bored already?”
“No, but can I play on the step? I want to see the chick’bees again.”
“Chick-a-dees. All right. But don’t wander off.”
Several treks later, the child had transported doll, milk, tea set and cookie outside. Within moments, she was humming and explaining to Tavia about black-hatted birdies.
Shanna watched the child play in freckled sunshine. Nine years and still mending. I’ll never forget you, Timmy.
Kate said, “My great-granddaughter is very taken with you.”
“She’s a sweet child.”
The old woman sipped noisily at her coffee. “Her mother, my granddaughter—God rest her soul—didn’t know the first thing about raising kids. She wasn’t the maternal kind.” Another slurpy sip. “Bob did most of the mothering.”
“Mrs. Rowan—”
“But you know about mothering, don’t you?”
