The Rancher Next Door

Chapter Five

She’d run into blazing buildings when others had run out. She’d skydived, steer wrestled and babysat for the world’s most mischievous and troublemaking twin boys. She’d bungee jumped, rock climbed, white-water rafted and even won a jalapeño-eating contest in west Texas.

Walking inside a room at the local nursing home shouldn’t be that difficult.

Caley stood just outside the doorway, breathing in the unmistakable smell of antiseptic mixed with a liberal spray of floral air freshener. She fought the urge to gag, to turn and run and pretend this wasn’t happening. Nonie—her Nonie, trapped in a cream-colored prison. It wasn’t fair.

But neither were a lot of things, including the way Caley had practically run away from home. And the way her dad and Nonie never seemed to care if she ever returned.

Hadn’t anyone in her life ever truly wanted her? Her mom left them when Caley was young, choosing an older, wealthier man over her high-school-sweetheart husband, and never looked back.

Was Caley that forgettable?

“Is this the right room?” Ava tugged at Caley’s shirtsleeve.

Caley startled, having nearly forgotten the girl was there. Not a great mark for her babysitting résumé. She shook her head to clear it and smiled down at her charge, hoping the younger girl didn’t see how her lips shook of their own choosing. “Sorry. I zoned out there. This is right.” But so, so wrong. She took a deep breath and urged her feet to move, but the brown cowboy boots refused to budge. “After you.”

Ava furrowed her brow in confusion, but stepped around the door frame and into the room, leaving Caley no choice now but to follow.

The dim room, lit by the glare of a television playing an old game-show rerun, seemed depressing and suffocating. Nonie lay propped in bed, a half-empty glass of water next to her at the rolling bedside table, her eyes closed, mouth slightly open as she napped. The room had no pictures or flowers like some they’d passed in the hallway on their way here. No signs of life or love or cherished memories.

A knot formed in Caley’s throat and threatened to choke her completely. She coughed in an attempt to clear it, then covered her mouth with her hand, hoping she hadn’t woken her grandmother. She couldn’t do this right now. Not today. Maybe tomorrow.

Maybe the next day.

Memories blinded her, rushing at her in a wave of nostalgia thick enough to bottle. Nonie, surrounded by fabric squares as she pieced together a quilt. Nonie, handing Caley a freshly baked chocolate chip cookie and winking as she pressed a second one into her other hand. Nonie, rubbing her back when she was tired and holding her hair when she was sick.

Now Nonie was sick, and Caley couldn’t do a thing about it.

She turned to escape, but her boot squeaked on the linoleum floor. Nonie’s eyes fluttered open, and she stared at Caley as if she’d imagined her presence. Had she? Had she lain in this bed, feeble and frail and alone, imagining Caley there?

“Caley? Is that you?” The words bled from Nonie’s throat, croaky and aged in a voice that wasn’t her own.

Then she coughed, and her vibrancy returned as the frog vanished. “Girl, get over here. What took you so long? I’ve been waiting for weeks for you to show up.”

Ava stared at Nonie and then at Caley, apparently searching for answers. Caley opened her mouth, then shut it and shrugged as she made her way to Nonie’s bedside. “It’s me.”

Her grandmother’s bony fingers cupped her shoulders in a hug, the pressure strong and tight like she’d always remembered. Caley pulled back, but Nonie held her close in a grip a pro wrestler would have admired. “You look good, kiddo.”

“So do you.” The words slipped out automatically before Caley could realize their lack of truth, but Nonie just laughed hard enough to bring on a coughing spell.

“Still full of jokes. Glad life hasn’t beaten you down, my girl.” Nonie clutched Caley’s hand in her own veined, papery-thin one, and smiled, revealing perfect dentures. Then she leaned in closer, her wise blue gaze staring with the force of a laser. “Or has it?”

Caley tugged free, unable or maybe unwilling to answer. She wrapped one arm around Ava, who had dropped back, and propelled her forward. “Nonie, this is Ava. I’m her nanny for a few weeks. She and her dad live next door to the house I’m renting.”

“I know this young’in from the church.” Nonie latched on to Ava, who didn’t seem to mind in the least. “McCollough, right?”

Ava nodded and returned the squeeze, even pumping Nonie’s hand like she would a healthy adult with a regular handshake. “Nice to see you again, ma’am.”

“I once changed your diapers in the church nursery.” Nonie grinned, a flash of her former spunk still vivid in her eyes. She might be stuck in this bed, but her mind was certainly not the traitor her body was. “You and your daddy still attending?”

“Most weeks.” Ava shrugged as she eased onto the side of the bed near Nonie. “We didn’t for a long time, but I’m glad he takes me again. My Sunday-school class is fun.”

“I sure wish they’d let me out of here to go.” Nonie gestured to the room holding her captive. “But you know what’s neat?” She leaned in close to Ava as if she had a secret, just like she’d done to Caley as a child. “I can meet with God right here in this room. Doesn’t have to be in a church.” She patted the worn Bible on the bedside table.

A muscle jumped in Caley’s jaw. Nonie used to take her to church when she was growing up. Her father had refused to set foot in the building, for reasons she never fully understood.

Now she sort of got it.

Caley slipped away from the bed, gratefully allowing Nonie’s attention to focus on Ava as they chattered about the people they knew in common from the church. It was a small world. No, small town. That was half the reason why Caley had bailed in the first place. She’d needed more space than four corners of a county line. More adventure than cow-tipping Farmer Ganshert’s lazy herd on a Friday night.

More life than her dad would allow her to live.

“Been a long time.” Nonie turned her attention Caley, her plum-colored lips thinning into a line. Leave it to Nonie to wear lipstick in the nursing home. Her eyes widened with meaning. “Too long.”

“I’m sorry, Nonie.” Caley started to say more, but the words froze deep inside and refused to thaw. Sudden tears burned behind her eyes, and she pinched the bridge of her nose to ward them off. It was her fault she’d stayed away—but then again, not entirely. “We should probably go.” Far, far away. Where no one could see her cry or know her secrets. Know how selfish she’d been fresh out of high school. Know how she’d carried the hurt with her all over the country, nestled permanently on her back and heavier than the oxygen tank from her bunker gear.

But the scary part was—would she do it any differently if she could have a do-over?

“We just got here.” Ava, with all the naivety and practicality of a preteen, perched on the edge of Nonie’s bed. “Wheel of Fortune is coming on.”

“I’ve gotten good at the puzzles.” Nonie patted Ava’s hand, and the cozy scene could have been a time warp from when Caley was ten years old, snuggled on Nonie’s bed with the remote control and her favorite quilt. “But some puzzles, my dear, are not as easily solved.”

Ava nodded as she tuned in to the show, but Caley knew those words were meant for her. She caught Nonie’s eye over the top of Ava’s head, and relaxed slightly at her grandmother’s understanding wink. She sank into the hard wooden chair near the bed and leaned back, ignoring the way the slats dug into her back.

She deserved the pain.

* * *

Figured the one time Max went into town for feed, the bull got out.

Brady faced the hindquarters of the ornery steed from several yards away atop Nugget, who snorted and tossed his head, jangling the reins as if to say Brady must be crazy if he thought they were getting any closer to the loose animal. On his morning rounds, he’d noted the trampled section of barbed wire too late. Now his prized bull, Spitfire, was in open pasture, way too close to Caley’s house—and the street—for comfort.

Brady fingered the lasso on his saddle horn, wondering if he should amble casually that direction or let the bull make the first move. Or, ideally, leave him be until Max returned as backup on a second horse. The bull wasn’t outright dangerous in theory, but when trying to be coerced from greener pastures back into his section of pen, well...that could change. Already he shot wary, flat-eared glances at Nugget, as if he knew the horse’s plans to round him up. At least Caley had taken Ava to the nursing home, so they weren’t in the—

Gravel spun as Caley’s truck pulled into her driveway. Brady winced as the commotion drew the bull’s attention. His large black head popped up, grass dangling from his rubbery lips, and his tail stilled.

Caley and Ava climbed out, oblivious to the situation, their feminine voices carrying in the wind. Of all the times for them to go to Caley’s house instead of the ranch. Scooter barked twice from inside the house, and Brady breathed his relief when Spitfire snorted in warning, then slowly returned to his afternoon snack. Good thing Caley had locked her dog up when they left earlier, or there’d be a three-ring circus in his pasture about now.