Reunited With The Rancher

“I’ll help him get up.” Isaac took over, lifting Jack to his feet and helping him into the wheelchair.

“Getting old stinks,” Jack said. His voice was weaker than it had been.

Carson reached for his wrist and felt for a pulse.

“Still have a heart?” Jack asked.

“You’re not funny,” Kylie whispered, with tears in her eyes.

Carson averted his attention and looked down at Jack. “You do still have a heart. But I think it would be good to get you to the house and get you in bed.”

It took ten minutes to get Jack back and settled in his recliner in the living room. He insisted he would be most comfortable in the big leather chair. Kylie brought him water and something for the headache, brought on by the nitroglycerin.

Carson was checking Jack’s blood pressure with a monitor Kylie had given him when Isaac appeared with Maggie and Andy. Maggie had her arms around Isaac’s neck and she jabbered, telling him a story that he probably couldn’t make much sense of. Andy followed, but he was expressionless as he tapped a steady rhythm on his leg, a sure sign he was distressed by the unfamiliar situation and place.

He had to get them somewhere and get them settled. Soon. Andy needed a stable place, his things around him, structure. The only way to provide that was to get where they were going as quickly as possible, and find a home where they could start over.

As he considered his next move, the puppy that had been with Kylie appeared. It immediately went to Andy, and Carson watched as his son dropped to the floor and put his arms around the animal. Andy’s features relaxed and he smiled as he pulled the puppy close and buried his face in its yellow fur.

Maggie gave the dog a few pats, then she toddled up to Carson. He lifted her and she leaned in to whisper in his ear, “Potty.”

“The bathroom is through the kitchen and next to the utility room,” Kylie offered. “I can show you.”

“Thank you. We’ll take care of that and then we need to get on the road. I want to be in a hotel before bedtime.”

“No.” Andy spoke quietly, his face pressed against the dog.

“Andy?” Carson reached for his son, but Andy pulled back, shaking his head.

“I don’t want to go.”

“But we have to.” Carson shifted, putting himself clearly in his son’s line of vision.

Andy looked up, suddenly focused. He shook his head and pulled the Labrador puppy close. “No. I want to stay.”

Carson paused at the unexpected outburst from his son. Because Andy was on the autism spectrum, even though it was mild, he rarely put more than a few words together.

The puppy seemed to be the key.

“I’m sorry, Andy, but we can’t stay.”

Andy shook his head again. Carson became aware of Kylie moving closer. Briefly her hand touched his arm. He looked up and she smiled, thoroughly undoing something inside him that he’d been holding together for thirty-two long months. Now wasn’t the most opportune time for him to remember that he had once loved holding a woman close. A teenager, he reminded himself. They’d been little more than kids when they’d known one another. They’d held hands, made up impossible dreams for the future, and then it had ended.

“Andy could take a walk with Skip before you go,” Kylie suggested. “It’ll give him a chance to unwind, get some fresh air. It might make it easier for him to get back in the car. I’ll take him down to see the new calves while you change Maggie.”

Kylie held a hand out to Andy and he watched his son slip his small hand in to hers. He’d just been taken by surprise again.

* * *

Kylie led Andy out the back door and down the steps. The little boy seemed to be keeping his focus on Skip, and the more he did, the less he tapped at his leg.

“Do you like to swing?” she asked as they crossed the lawn in the direction of the swing Jack had maintained with fresh ropes and the occasional new board. The swing, always a reminder that a long time ago there had been children on this ranch.

Now there were veterans, both men and women. They worked on the ranch with the cattle, with horses Jack raised, and even with the dogs. They were also learning new skills doing construction projects in town.

Kylie glanced down at the little boy holding her hand. He glanced in the direction of the swing and then his gaze briefly shifted to meet hers. He nodded in answer to her question.

“I think your daddy played on this swing when he was a little boy. Would you like for me to push you on it?”

Again he nodded.

When they got to the swing, she lifted him to the seat and showed him how to hold tightly to the rope. She gave him a push and his hands tightened even more. The next time she pushed a little easier and noticed that he relaxed.

As she pushed the swing she told him about the ranch and about knowing his daddy when he was a boy. She didn’t share the part about how her heart had broken when he left. He hadn’t said goodbye. It had broken her heart because she’d allowed herself to believe the fairy tales they’d spun as they’d ridden bikes and played in the creek. At thirteen she’d really believed that someday they would get married.

And like all young girls, she’d believed in their dreams of a perfect life and a happy home, where no one would ever yell or hurt them. Ever again.

She’d found happiness on this ranch. She felt secure here. And she wondered if Carson was chasing after happiness, too, hoping to help his children feel secure in a life, a world, that had dealt them an incredibly difficult hand.

She looked down at the dark head of the boy in the swing and smiled. She could so easily get attached to him and to his sister. She could get attached to their father, too. She loved Jack like the father she’d never had, and she knew how badly he wanted to reconcile with his children. But she knew it would only be heartache for her if Carson and his children stayed for more than a day.

She glanced at the spot where Skip had been playing with a stick. The puppy and stick were both gone. She slowed the swing and scanned the area but didn’t see a trace of the puppy.

Great. She’d gotten distracted and the Labrador had done what he most loved: wandered off. “Andy, keep swinging. I’m going to look behind the shed for Skip. Stay right here in case he comes back. He would be very sad if he came back and we were gone.”

Andy nodded and he remained on the swing, his little legs kicking back and forth. The shed, a mere twenty feet away, was one of Skip’s favorite places to hunt feral cats. She could hear his low, puppy growl. As she rounded the corner of the shed, he took off.

“Skip,” she called out, knowing it would do no good. He would never make a good service dog if she couldn’t break him of his need to chase cats.

She was coming back around the shed when she saw Carson and Maggie heading their way. He glanced at her and then looked around, his fatherly concern evident even from a distance.

“Where’s Andy?” he asked as he got closer.

“On the swing,” she answered. But he wasn’t. “He was right there. I told him to wait.”

Carson shook his head. “He walks away. I should have warned you. Hold Maggie and I’ll find him.”

“It’s only been two minutes. He couldn’t have gone far.” She took Maggie and the little girl patted her shoulder and whispered, “Oh, Andy.”

Kylie turned in circles, scanning the yard, the fields and the road. Where could Andy have gotten to so quickly? As she started her own search in the yard, Isaac walked out the back door of the house. She waved him down and he headed her way at a lope.

“What’s up?” He pushed the brim of his cowboy hat back revealing just the edge of the scar that ran from his jaw to the place just above his left ear.

“Andy ran away from me. Two minutes and he was gone. If you get Max, he could help.”

Isaac was already walking away. “I’ll get him and a couple of the guys. We’ll spread out in the field and head toward the pond. Kids always seem drawn to water.”

“Thank you.” The words came out choked as tears filled her eyes and clogged her throat.