The Cowboy's Healing Ways

He stopped when he reached the kitchen. “The word you’re looking for is neglected. And what’s in the Crock-Pot?”

She walked past him and lifted the lid. “Roast. I hope you don’t mind. I found it in the freezer and thought it would be an easy meal for you. It’ll be done by six this evening and if you don’t want it tonight, I can put it in a container and you can reheat it tomorrow.”

“Amazing.” He’d lived the bachelor life since he’d left home for college. He’d forgotten what a woman’s touch did for a place.

A car door interrupted his musings. He glanced out the window and saw the corner of a silver car. He pulled ham and cheese out of the fridge. Behind him he heard the water running and Laura washing her hands.

“You have company.”

“That would be my grandmother, here to check on you.” He put the luncheon meat on the counter and found bread in the cabinet.

Laura turned from the sink, a towel in her hands. “Does she know that I’m working for you?”

“I’m sure everyone in town knows. I bought two meals at Vera’s two nights in a row.” He handed her a paper plate. “Don’t worry about it.”

Her eyes widened and pink stained her cheeks. He felt bad about teasing her, but in the past two days he’d learned that she was easy to embarrass, and when that happened, pink crept up her neck to her cheeks.

“Well, I hadn’t planned on worrying until you said something. I don’t want people to get the wrong idea.”

“They won’t.” He grinned because she was watching the door. “Relax, I’m just teasing.”

Before his grandmother could knock, he called out for her to come in. She did. The door banged softly behind her and he heard her mutter something about needing to kick off her shoes before she tracked in mud. The comment reminded him and he looked down at his boots and cringed. Even the hems of his jeans were caked with mud. When he looked up, Laura smiled and shook her head.

“I tracked in on your clean floor.” He reached for a roll of paper towels and she stopped him.

“The mop is still damp. I’ll clean it up after you’re finished with lunch.”

Granny Myrna stepped into the kitchen. She eyed the two of them and helped herself to a cup of coffee.

“Now, isn’t this cozy?”

“Gran, it isn’t what you...”

She raised a bejeweled hand and shook her head. “I know that. It’s just...very domestic. I’m glad to see this place clean and smelling of something other than that dog of yours.”

“Thanks.” He offered her a sandwich and she shook her head.

“I’m not here for lunch. I’m here to see if Laura wants to ride into town with me. I thought we’d check on her car and then we can go by and see her aunt Sally.”

Laura had stopped fixing her sandwich. Her hands stilled over the bread and she glanced his way, as if seeking his permission.

“I really need to finish up. I haven’t mopped the upstairs bathrooms.”

Jesse offered her a bottle of water. “Tomorrow. Eat and go with Gran. I promise she’s usually a very safe driver.”

Laura smiled up at him, a shy smile. “Thank you. And I trust her.”

He grinned at that. “Suit yourself. But trusting her driving, way overrated.”

She turned pink again. He looked away but caught his grandmother watching him, an all-too-knowing look in eyes that probably saw too much, even if she did say they weren’t as good as they used to be.

* * *

Ten minutes and just a few miles later, Laura had lost that trust in Myrna’s driving. A ride to town brought new fears and a renewed belief in the power of prayer.

“Relax. And try breathing. By the way, don’t wear yourself out cleaning Jesse’s house. I don’t think you’re over that virus.” Myrna slowed and pulled into the parking lot of the Lakeside Residential Care Facility. The building was one level, a long, low building with brick siding and multiple windows.

Laura smiled at Myrna.

“It’s been a long time since I’ve seen or talked to Aunt Sally.”

“Does that mean my driving has nothing to do with your pale face or the death grip on the door handle?”

Laura relaxed her grip and smiled. “Maybe a little.”

“It’s always been a problem for me. I get behind the wheel and something takes over. Mort and I, back in the day when there was a local dirt track, raced. I had a powder-puff car and I could rip up that track.”

“You raced?”

“Don’t look so shocked. I wasn’t always a grandma.”

They got out of the car and walked up the sidewalk together. Myrna touched her arm. “Have you talked to your little girl?”

“Abigail.” Laura nodded. “I was supposed to see her on Saturday but I’m not sure if I’ll be able to.”

“Why ever not?”

“It depends on my car.” She hated to mention it.

“Well, of course you’ll see her. I’ll make sure of it—if I have to drive you myself.”

Laura choked back a laugh and a sob. “Thank you, Myrna.”

“Don’t you mention it, sweetie. Now, let’s go see how Sally Ann is doing.”

Laura followed Myrna down the hall, and Myrna seemed to know right where they would find her aunt. They stopped at a small room with several tables and a few women with jigsaw puzzles in front of them.

Aunt Sally was one of the women. It had been years, but Laura knew her aunt immediately. She wore a pale blue housedress and her dark gray hair was freshly permed. Her wire-framed glasses slid down her nose as she stared at the puzzle pieces in front of her.

“She probably won’t remember you.” Myrna patted Laura’s arm. “I guess you know that.”

Laura nodded, tears filling her eyes as she stared at a woman she remembered from childhood, a woman who had been from Dawson but lived in Tulsa at the time. They would visit on weekends and Aunt Sally would make cookies and show Laura how to crochet granny squares out of multicolored yarn.

She approached her aunt, taking the empty seat next to her. Myrna stood behind Sally, a hand on her shoulder. Sally looked up at Myrna smiling and then offered Laura a vacant smile.

“Hi, Aunt Sally. I’ve come to visit you. I know it’s been a long time.”

“I can’t talk long. I have to go to work.” Aunt Sally held a puzzle piece in her hand.