Pamela Tracy - Once Upon a Cowboy

“Morning, Caleb,” Joel greeted. “Are you being shy today?”

The fingers didn’t come out of his mouth and Caleb didn’t respond.

From the doorway came a whispered command, “Tell him it’s time for breakfast. Tell him Grandpa said.”

But, as youngest sons are prone to do, this one didn’t listen, just shook his head again.

“It’s time for breakfast.” The door opened all the way and Ryan came in. He gave his little brother a dirty look. “Grandpa said. And Caleb’s not shy, he’s just being stubborn.”

The words may have come from an eight-year-old’s mouth, but they were Jared’s words, complete with tone. The way Joel had heard them, all those years ago, was more like, “I’m Jared, the oldest. And Joel’s off hiding somewhere because he doesn’t want to do the real work. He’s just being lazy.” Real work was driving the tractor, not making sure it worked. Real work was spending eight hours straight harvesting, not spending eight seconds on a bull for a chance at a couple thousand dollars and a buckle.

Jared and Joel had different ideas of fun.

Matt peeked through the door, not willing to enter, but not willing to miss out on what was happening. “Matt is shy,” said Ryan. Matt neither disagreed nor entered the room.

“I’m three.” Caleb took the two fingers from his mouth and held them up.

“He’s three,” Ryan agreed. “And after we eat, Grandpa wants you to help set up his party.”

Joel managed to stand once again.

“You not staying?” Caleb asked, moving closer.

“Dad says you’re leaving soon,” Ryan agreed. “And we’re not supposed to talk to you except when we have to.”

“Grandpa says he’s staying,” Matt reminded from the doorway. “Until he’s better.”

“I’m not sure what I’m doing,” Joel said.

“He’s staying.” Grandpa Billy put his right hand firmly on Matt’s shoulder. “And you boys are leaving. It’s past time for you two to be doing your chores.”

Billy hadn’t made a sound as he walked down the hallway. Years of being an elementary school principal had taught him how to sneak up on kids. Ryan and Caleb giggled. Matt pretty much harrumphed, sounding more like Grandpa Billy than a mere boy. After a moment, they all left.

Joel put a hand to his head. He wasn’t sure if it was his nephews’ visit or the passing of time, but his headache was gone. Outside he could hear the tractor shutting down and the boys shouting, “Morning, Dad.” At least some things didn’t change.

He felt a pull in his lower back, but it was only a dull ache, not a blinding pain that flashed every time he so much as twitched. You’d think the minor traffic accident would have made things worse. Instead, it was just another day of not knowing if he’d be bedridden or moving.

That’s what happened with acute lumbar strain and multiple vertebra damage.

He heard the tractor start again and quickly die. He heard another vehicle, too, and at first thought it was Billy driving away. Instead, an engine turned off and someone, maybe Ryan, shouted, “Hey.”

Joel went to the window and opened the curtains wide. Max McClanahan II was already heading toward Jared. Joel could just imagine the gist of their conversation.

Max would be saying something like, “How fast were you chasing Joel when he hit our fence?”

And Jared might be saying, “If I’d been chasing him, he’d be gone. How much damage and what’s the cost?”

Nope, Joel didn’t need any help imagining the conversation happening right under his window, especially when he saw Max extend his arms wide and laugh.

Guess there wasn’t just a small hole in that fence. Jared didn’t laugh in return. Just shook his head. Joel couldn’t believe he’d neglected to get Billy to show him the damage yesterday. Five bucks. That’s all Joel had. And, in just a little over the past twenty-four hours, he’d managed to add more hospital bills and now a fence.

“Dad, I gotta go potty!” A small boy opened the door to Max’s truck. A little girl tried to scamper behind, but was caught in the seat belt until Billy went over to help her out of it. Max raised a hand, signaling for the little boy to head for the house.

No, very little had changed at Solitaire Farm. True to form, Joel was the last one out of bed. And, by the time he made it downstairs, Max and his kids had already headed back home.

Twenty years ago, Max had considered the McCreedy home as his and popped over on a whim. Jared and Joel had done the same at the McClanahan place. Max’s mother was the best cook in Iowa. All through school, Max had been one grade above Joel and one grade behind Jared. He’d been the class clown, always struggling to make it through with Cs, never making first string and he was the first of their group to notice hair loss.

Judging by the smile on his face when he looked at the two kids, none of that mattered anymore. His life was going pretty well. No doubt, in Roanoke, Iowa, quite a lot about his high school friends had changed in the last eight years. They were planting families, growing careers and harvesting community.

They were also all older and wiser, while Joel had just gotten older.

Saturday afternoon, Beth parked behind a parade of cars and followed her sister Linda across the driveway and up to Solitaire Farm’s porch. Susan had wanted to crash the party along with Linda, but the smell of birthday cake made her ill. However, bubblegum ice cream topped with blueberries made her happy. Go figure. Susan enjoyed being pregnant entirely too much.

A banner tied between two ceiling slates promised a Rootin’ Tootin’ Birthday. The door was propped open with a train, and inside the living room was scattered a handful of parents, more than Beth expected to see. The only parent missing was Jared.

With the way Matt had been acting yesterday, half in awe and half afraid of Joel, Beth didn’t want to wait any longer before speaking to Jared. She hated using a kid’s birthday party for a parent-teacher conference, but Jared had a knack for avoiding issues.

Mona Gabor smiled and waved Beth over, but Beth pointed to the back door. “Is Jared outside?”

Mona shook her head. “He’s down at Solitaire’s Market, no doubt hoping a few of the parents will stop and make a purchase or two.”

Solitaire’s Market had been Mandy’s idea. They’d started the roadside store about the time Matt was born. To everyone’s surprise, it made money. Beth knew because she’d worked in it many a Saturday, helping out.

The market was just one more thing on Jared’s plate. When Mandy was alive, Jared had cared about making sure his family was provided for, but not so that he’d missed being a part of their everyday lives. Now that Mandy was gone, Jared obsessed about work to such an extent that Billy had become his sons’ primary caregiver. Beth edged toward the kitchen and a clean getaway. Mona tended to ask a lot of questions.

Before Beth could make it to the backyard, she heard Billy say, “Is there a hole in it?”

“I don’t know yet.” Joel, standing in the middle of what looked like a deflated hot-air balloon, nodded at Beth as she came out the back door. Then, as if suddenly realizing who she was, sent her a full-blown smile. He was wearing loose jeans and a tight blue T-shirt that had seen better days. He actually looked like he was having fun amid all the chaos.

He was looking at her as if she just added to the fun.

“It came with a repair kit,” Billy said, totally missing out on his helper’s inattention.

Joel looked at home in the backyard. That shouldn’t surprise her; after all, he’d grown up on Solitaire Farm. He stood all handsome and strong looking. She wouldn’t have recuperated so quickly if she’d driven her car into a fence and suffered a concussion.

He made no move to patch the inflatable jump house. Instead, he asked, “Did you bring a book to read?”

She was surprised he remembered. “No, I didn’t bring a book to read.”

He shook his head. “You even read during football games.”

“Quit jabbering,” Billy ordered, as a little girl ran and hid behind him to avoid being caught by Mona Gabor’s three-year-old. “Fix the hole so we can get these kids occupied.” A moment later, the Gabor toddler plowed into Billy, almost knocking him to the ground and inspiring Joel to get busy.

Beth watched him, noting the way his hair rippled in the wind, how his body moved—just a bit on the hesitant side—and how easily he fixed the leak.

That was his gift, always, even more than sports. He tinkered, on the farm, at school and at Tiny’s garage. All those years ago, when she’d been watching him from afar and thinking he didn’t notice her, maybe he had.

A tiny piece of her—one she didn’t dare let grow because of all the what ifs —felt exhilarated.

In their small Iowa town, high school football rated as one of the top three things to do—right after go to church and take care of the family. She’d started going to games when she was eleven. About the time she hit thirteen, she’d had enough. She wasn’t going to follow her sisters’ Adidas athletic shoes onto the field and wave pom-poms. Being in the limelight never appealed to Beth. Until Joel had made quarterback, she’d sat on the bleachers—there to support both her sisters, who were cheerleaders—with her nose in a book while those around her cheered. Of course, the stadium lights didn’t make for easy reading, and it had seemed like every time Beth got comfortable, the bleachers moved. Everyone wanted to stomp their feet in tune with the cheerleaders. If they weren’t doing that, they’d stand to either cheer a good call or debate a bad one.

When Joel had made quarterback, she’d read her book but she’d made sure to watch when he played. She’d always considered him worth watching. Only once before had she noticed him watching back. It was the game-winning play, his senior year. She’d seen his teammates lifting him in the air. He’d whipped off his helmet and looked into the crowd.

Right at Beth.

Or so it had seemed.

Then he’d been swallowed up not only by his teammates, but by the cheerleaders, coaches and fans.

And Beth had returned to her book.

Looking at Joel McCreedy now, with the sunlight dancing in his hair and laughter dancing in his eyes, she almost felt weak-kneed. Obviously, schoolgirl crushes didn’t go away, even when the object of the crush moved far, far away.

No doubt about it, books were a safer investment than Joel McCreedy. The last time he’d left, he’d not known he was taking her heart. All it would take was one touch, the right word and that full-blown come-hither grin, and everyone would know he could win her heart.

Including her mother.

And since Joel had no staying power, she’d be here in Roanoke picking up the pieces all by herself again.

No, thank you.

Joel straightened, watching as Beth made her way to a group of adults busy setting out the makings for a hot dog and potato chip meal. Her red-and-white-striped shirt topped tight jeans that fell midknee. White socks and white tennis shoes finished off the look.

Definitely a target to follow.

He was careful not to move too quickly. He’d already made a mistake or two today. First, he’d picked up Caleb so he could watch as people parked in the driveway. Apparently, to a three-year-old, watching friends arrive with presents was almost as good as getting to open the presents.

Picking Caleb up hadn’t hurt, but putting him down had.