“Mark my words.”
“Frank, please,” she said, “You’re talking as though Cal wasn’t a happily married man. We both know he isn’t the sort to get involved with a woman like Nicole. With any woman. He’s a good husband and father.”
“Yes,” Frank agreed.
“How did you hear about her taking dinner out to Cal?” Phil asked. It worried him that this troublemaker was apparently dropping Cal’s name into every conversation, stirring up speculation. Glen was the one who’d mentioned it to Phil—casually, but Phil wasn’t fooled. This was his youngest son’s way of letting him know he sensed trouble. Phil had weighed his options and decided his advice wasn’t necessary. But it seemed that plenty of others had heard about Nicole’s little trip to the ranch. Not from Glen and not from Ellie, which meant Nicole herself had been spreading the news. She had to be incredibly naive or just plain stupid or…Phil didn’t want to think about what else would be going on in the woman’s head. He didn’t know her well enough to even guess. Whatever the reason for her actions, if Jane heard about this, there could be problems.
“Glen told Ellie,” Dovie said, “and she was the one who mentioned it to me. Not in any gossipy way, mind you, but because she’s concerned. She asked what I knew about Nicole.” Like Dovie, Ellie didn’t want to involve Annie.
“Do you think anyone will say something to Jane?”
Dovie immediately rejected that idea. “Not unless it’s Nicole Nelson herself. To do so would be cruel and malicious. I can’t think of a single person in Promise who’d purposely hurt Jane. This town loves Dr. Texas.” Dr. Texas was what Jane had been affectionately called during her first few years at the clinic.
“The person in danger of getting hurt here is Cal,” Frank said gruffly. “Man needs his head examined.”
Phil had to grin at that. Frank could be right; perhaps it was time to step in, before things got out of hand. “Mary always was better at talking to the boys,” he muttered. “But I suppose I’d better have a word with him….”
“You want me to talk to him?” Frank offered.
“Frank!” Dovie snapped.
“Someone has to warn him he’s playing with fire,” Frank blurted, and glanced at Phil, obviously expecting him to agree.
Phil shook his head. “Listen, if anyone says anything, it’ll be me.”
“You will, won’t you?” Frank pressed.
Reluctantly Phil nodded. He would, but he wasn’t sure when. Sometimes a situation righted itself without anyone needing to say a word. This just might be one of those cases.
He sincerely hoped so.
Chapter Four
Jane stood at the foot of her father’s hospital bed reading his medical chart. Dr. Roth had allowed her to review his notes as a professional courtesy. She frowned as she studied them, then flipped through the test results, liking what they had to say even less.
“Janey? Is it that bad?” her father asked. She’d assumed he was asleep; his question took her by surprise.
Jane quickly set the chart aside. “Sorry if I woke you,” she murmured.
He waved off her remark.
“It’s bad news, isn’t it?” he asked again. “You can tell me, Jane.”
His persistence told her how worried he was. “Hmm. It says here you’ve been making a pest of yourself,” she said, instead of answering his question.
He shook his head, but wore a sheepish grin. “How’s a man supposed to get any rest around here with people constantly waking him for one thing or another? If I’d known how much blood they were going to draw or how often, I swear I’d make them pay me.” He paused. “Do you have any idea what they charge for all this—all these X rays and CAT scans and tests?”
“Don’t worry about that, Dad. You have health insurance.” However, she knew that his real concern wasn’t the expense but the other problems that had been discovered as a result of his broken hip.
“I want to know what’s going on,” he said, growing agitated.
“Dad.” Jane pressed her hand to his shoulder.
He reached for her fingers and squeezed them hard. For a long moment he said nothing. “Cal wants you home, doesn’t he?”
She hesitated, not knowing what to say. Cal had become restive and even a bit demanding; he hadn’t hidden his disappointment when she’d told him she couldn’t return to Promise yet. Their last few conversations had been terse and had left Jane feeling impatient with her husband—and guilty for reacting that way. In retrospect, she regretted the entire conversation and suspected he did, as well.
“Your mother and I have come to rely on you far too much,” her father murmured.
“It’s all right,” Jane said, uncomfortably aware that Cal had said essentially the same thing. “I’m not only your daughter, I’m a physician. It’s only natural that you’d want me here. What’s far more important is for you and Mom not to worry.”
Her father sighed and closed his eyes. “This isn’t fair to you.”
“Dad,” she said again, more emphatically. “It’s all right, really. Cal understands.” He might not like it, but he did understand.
“How much time do I have?” he shocked her by asking next. He was looking straight at her. “No one else will tell me the truth. You’re the only one I can trust.”
Her fingers curled around his and she met his look. “There are very effective treatments—”
“How much time?” he repeated, more loudly.
Jane shook her head.
“You won’t tell me?” He sounded hurt, as if she’d somehow betrayed him.
“How do you expect me to answer a question like that?” she demanded. “Do I have a crystal ball or a direct line to God? For all we know, you could outlive me.”
His smile was fleeting. “All right, give me a ball-park figure.”
Jane was uncomfortable doing even that. “Dad, you aren’t listening to what I’m saying. You’re only at the beginning stages of treatment.”
“Apparently my heart isn’t in great shape, either.”
What he said was true, but the main concern right now was treating the cancer. He’d already had his first session of chemotherapy, and Jane hoped there’d be immediate results. “Your heart is fine.”
“Yeah, sure.”
“Dad!”
He made an effort to smile. “It’s a hard thing to face one’s failing health—one’s mortality.”
When she nodded, he said quietly, “I worry about your mother without me.”
Jane was worried about her mother, too, but she wasn’t about to add to her father’s burden. “Mom will do just fine.”
Her father sighed and looked away. “You’ve made me very proud, Jane. I don’t think I’ve ever told you that.”
A lump formed in her throat and she couldn’t speak.
“If anything happens to me, I want you to be there for your mother.”
“Dad, please, of course I’ll help Mom, but don’t talk like that. Yes, you’ve got some medical problems, but they’re all treatable. You trust me, don’t you?”
He closed his eyes and nodded. “Love you, Janey.”
“I love you, too, Dad.” On impulse, she leaned forward and kissed his forehead.
“Tell your mother to take the kids to the beach again,” he insisted. “Better yet, make that Disneyland.”
“She wants to spend the time with you.”
“Tell her not to come and visit me today. I need the rest.” He opened his eyes and gave her an outrageous wink. “Now get out of here so I can sleep.”
“Yes, Daddy,” she said, reaching for her purse.
She might be a grown woman with children of her own, but the sick fragile man in that bed would always be the father she loved.
“Mommy, beach?” Paul asked as he walked into the kitchen a couple of mornings later, dragging his beloved blanket behind him. He automatically opened the cupboard door under the counter and checked out the selection of high-sugar breakfast cereals. Her mother
had spoiled the children, Jane realized, and it was going to take work to undo that once she was home again.
Home. She felt so torn between her childhood home and her life in Promise, between her parents and her husband. She no longer belonged in California. Texas was in her blood now and she missed it—missed the ranch, her friends…and most of all, she missed Cal.
“Can we go to the beach?” Paul asked again, hugging the box of sugar-frosted cereal to his chest as he carried it to the table.
“Ah…” Her father’s doctor was running another set of tests that afternoon.
“Go ahead,” her mother urged, entering the kitchen, already dressed for the day. “Nothing’s going to happen at the hospital until later.”
“But, Mom…” Jane’s sole reason for being in California was to help her parents. If she was going to be here, she wanted to feel she was making some contribution to her father’s recovery. Since their conversation two days ago, he’d tried to rely on her less, insisting she spend more time with her children. But the fewer demands her father made on her, the more her mother seemed to cling. Any talk of returning to Texas was met with immediate resistance.
“I’ll stay with your dad this morning while you go to the beach,” her mother said. “Then we can meet at the hospital, and I’ll take the children home for their naps.”
Jane agreed and Paul gave a small shout of glee. Mary Ann, who was sitting in the high chair, clapped her hands, although she couldn’t possibly have known what her brother was celebrating.
“Mom, once we get the final test results, I really need to think about going home. I’m needed back in Promise.”
Stephanie Dickinson’s smile faded. “I know you are. It’s just that it’s been so wonderful having you here…”
“I know, but—”
“I can’t tell you how much my grandkids have helped me cope with everything that’s happening.”
“I’m sure that’s true.” Her mother made it difficult to press the issue. Every time Jane brought up the subject of leaving, Stephanie found an even stronger reason for her to remain “an extra few days.” Jane had already spent far more time away than she’d intended.
“We’ll find out about Dad’s test results this afternoon, and if things look okay, I’m booking a flight home.”
Her mother lifted Mary Ann from the high chair and hugged her close. “Don’t worry, honey,” she said tearfully. “Your father and I will be just fine.”
“Mother. Are you trying to make me feel guilty?”
Stephanie blinked as if she’d never heard anything more preposterous. “What a ridiculous thing to suggest! Why would you have any reason to feel guilty?”
Why, indeed. “I miss my life, Mom—anyway, Derek’s here,” she said, mentioning her younger brother, who to this point had left everything in Jane’s hands. Five years younger, Derek was involved in his own life. He worked in the movie industry as an assistant casting director and had a different girlfriend every time Jane saw him. Derek came for brief visits, but it was clear that the emotional aspects of dealing with their parents’ situation were beyond him.
“Of course you need to get back,” her mother stated calmly as she reached for a bowl and set it on the table for Paul, along with a carton of milk.
The child opened the cereal box and filled his bowl, smiling proudly for having accomplished the feat by himself. Afraid of what would happen if he attempted to pour his own milk, Jane did it for him.
“I want you to brush your teeth as soon as you’re finished with your breakfast,” she told him. Then, taking Mary Ann with her, she left the kitchen to get ready for a morning at the beach.
Just as she’d hoped, the tests that afternoon showed signs of improvement. Jane was thrilled for more reasons than the obvious. Without discussing it, she called the airline and booked a flight home, then informed her parents as matter-of-factly as possible.
Stephanie Dickinson went out that evening for a meeting with her church women’s group—the first social event she’d attended since Harry’s accident. A good sign, in her daughter’s opinion. Jane welcomed the opportunity to pack her bags and prepare for their return. Paul moped around the bedroom while she waited for a phone call from Cal. She’d promised her son he could speak to his father, but wondered if that had been wise. Paul was already tired and cranky, and since Cal was attending a Cattlemen’s Association meeting, he wouldn’t be back until late.
“I want to go to the beach again,” he said, pouting.
“We will soon,” Jane promised. “Aren’t you excited about seeing Daddy?”
Paul’s lower lip quivered as he nodded. “Can Daddy go to the beach with us?”
“He will one day.”
That seemed to appease her son, and Jane got him settled with crayons and a Disney coloring book.
When the phone finally rang, she leaped for it, expecting to hear her husband’s voice. Eager to hear it.
“Hello,” she said. “Cal?”
“It’s me.” He sounded reserved, as if he wasn’t sure what kind of reception he’d get.
“Hello, you,” she said warmly.
“You’re coming home?”
“Tomorrow.”
“Oh, honey, you don’t know what good news that is!”
“I do know. I’ll give you the details in a minute. Talk to Paul first, would you?”
“Paul’s still up? It’s after nine o’clock, your time.”
“It’s been a long day. I took the kids to the beach this morning and then this afternoon I was at the hospital with my dad when the test results came back.” She took a deep breath. “I’ll explain later. Here’s Paul.”
She handed her son the receiver and stepped back while he chatted with his father. The boy described their time at the beach then gave her the receiver again. “Daddy says he wants to talk to you now.”
“All right,” she said, placing her hand over the mouthpiece. “Give me a kiss good-night and go to bed, okay? We have to get up early tomorrow.”
Paul stood on tiptoe and she bent down to receive a loud wet kiss. Not arguing, the boy trotted down the hallway to the bedroom he shared with Mary Ann. Jane waited long enough to make sure he went in.
“I’ve got the flight information, if you’re ready to write it down,” she said.
“Yup—pen in hand,” Cal told her happily. Hearing the elation in his voice was just the balm she needed.
She read off the flight number and time of arrival, then felt obliged to add, “I know things have been strained between us lately and…”
“I’m sorry, Jane,” he said simply. “It’s my fault.”
“I was about to apologize to you,” she said, loving him, anticipating their reunion.
“It’s just that I miss you so damn much.”
“I’ve missed you, too.” Jane sighed and closed her eyes. They spoke on the phone nearly every night, but lately their conversations had been tainted by the frustration they both felt with their predicament. She’d wanted sympathy and understanding; he’d been looking for the same. They tended to keep their phone calls brief.
“I have a sneaking suspicion your mother’s been spoiling the kids.”
“She sees them so seldom…” Jane started to offer an excuse, then realized they could deal with the subject of their children’s routines later.
“Your dad’s tests—how were they?” Cal asked.
“Well, put it this way. His doctors are cautiously optimistic. Dad’s coping.”
“Your mother, too?”
“Yes.” Despite Stephanie’s emotional dependence on her, Jane admired the courage her mother had shown in the past few weeks. Seeing her husband in the hospital, learning that he’d been diagnosed with cancer, was a terrifying experience for her. At least, the situation seemed more hopeful now.
“I’ll be at the airport ahead of schedule,” Cal promised. “Oh, honey, you don’t know how good it’s going to be to have you back.”
“I imagine you’re s
tarved for a home-cooked meal,” Jane teased.
“It isn’t your cooking I miss as much as just having my wife at home,” Cal said.
“So you’re eating well, are you?”
“I’m eating.” From the evasive way he said it, she knew that most of his dinners consisted of something thrown quickly together.
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” Jane whispered. “At five o’clock.”
“Tomorrow at five,” Cal echoed, “and that’s none too soon.”
Jane couldn’t agree more.
Cal was in a good mood. By noon, he’d called it quits for the day; ten minutes later he was in the shower. He shaved, slapped on the aftershave Jane preferred and donned a crisp clean shirt. He was ready to leave for San Antonio to pick up his wife and children. His steps lightened as he passed the bedroom, and he realized he’d be sharing the bed with his wife that very night. He hesitated at the sight of the disheveled and twisted sheets. Jane had some kind of obsession with changing the bed linens every week. She’d been away almost three weeks now and he hadn’t so much as made the bed. She’d probably appreciate clean sheets.
He stripped the bed and piled the dirty sheets on top of the washer. The laundry-room floor was littered with numerous pairs of mud-caked jeans and everything else he’d dirtied in the time she’d been away. No need to run a load, he figured; Jane liked things done her own way. He’d never known that a woman could be so particular about how the laundry got done.
The kitchen wasn’t in terrific shape, either, and Cal regretted not using the dishwasher more often. Until that very moment, he hadn’t given the matter of house-cleaning a second thought. He hurriedly straightened the kitchen and wiped down the countertops. Housework had never been his forte, and Jane was a real stickler about order and cleanliness. When he’d lived with his brother, they’d divided the tasks; Cal did most of the cooking and Glen managed the dishes. During the time his wife was away, Cal hadn’t done much of either.
Still, he hadn’t been totally remiss. He’d washed Savannah’s and Dovie’s dishes. Nicole Nelson’s, too. He grabbed his good beige Stetson and started to leave yet again, but changed his mind.
He didn’t have a thing to feel guilty about—but sure as hell, if Jane learned that Nicole had brought him a casserole, she’d be upset, particularly since he’d never mentioned it. That might look bad. He hadn’t meant to keep it from her, but they’d been sidetracked by other concerns, and then they’d had their little spat. He’d decided just to let it go.