Cowboy Dreaming

“He’s dying.” The words were said in a flat tone of voice as Cody made every effort to control the emotion welling inside him.

Mel blinked a couple of times, then swallowed quickly several times as she tried to force down the sick feeling. “What…” She gulped in some cool air. “What do you mean?”

“I mean exactly what I said—he’s dying. What part of that don’t you understand?” He was fully aware of the harshness of his words but did not seem to be able to say it any other way. He had already been through it all with Buck—the anger, the denial and the eventual acceptance. It had been a year ago that the physical deterioration began to take its toll and Cody had written the letter to Buck’s daughter. And now here she was, a year later, making demands as if she actually had some sort of concern or involvement.

She stumbled backward, the shock of Cody’s words hitting her as sharply as if he had reached out and slapped her. She had seen with her own eyes how her father had been reduced to a shell of his former self. Somewhere deep in her subconscious she had suspected the truth, but she had not been prepared for the reality to hit her so abruptly. Was this how it would end? Would her relationship with her father remain unresolved? For a fraction of a second it was herself she felt sorry for—for the possibility that she might have waited too long and was now too late to change things.

“What…when…” She tried to force a calm to her words. “How much time does he have? What is he dying of?”

Her genuine shock and obvious sorrow managed to pierce the wall Cody had purposely constructed between himself and this woman, of whom he disapproved yet at the same time found very enticing. He steeled himself against the emotional pull that reached out from her and tried to take hold of him.

“As to when, the doctor says he’s already on borrowed time. In fact, he said Buck should have been bedridden a couple of weeks ago.” He saw the color drain from her face and the unsteady manner in which she reached out to grab hold of the porch railing. He heard her ragged intake of breath.

“Doc says he honestly doesn’t know what’s kept Buck going.” Cody recalled the warmth that covered Buck when he first saw Melanie in the kitchen, some sort of inner peace separate from his acceptance of his mortality. A hint of cognizance tried to push its way into his mind, a thought that said perhaps it was the farfetched hope of a reunion with his daughter that had kept Buck going against all odds.

Cody doubled his resolve to keep control of the situation. He did not know why Melanie Winslow had decided to show up at this particular time, but he was determined to keep her from doing anything to spoil things. He wanted Buck’s final days to be as carefree and comfortable as possible.

“And…what…is he in much pain?” Melanie did not know what she felt; she mostly just felt numb. “Shouldn’t he be in the hospital?”

“Doc Gerrard doesn’t feel there is anything that can be done for him in the hospital that can’t be done here at home. This is where Buck wants to be. This is where he’s the most comfortable. This is where he has spent his life and where he wants to die. The pain is pretty much controlled by medication. Some days are better than others, but in the past couple of months he’s gone downhill rapidly. He’s a fighter. He’s accepted that he’s dying, but he hasn’t given up yet. Something is keeping him going, but I don’t know…” His voice trailed off as the thought forced its way into his mind again. Was it possible that Buck had found the will to push himself forward in an all-out effort to hang on to life in the hope of seeing his daughter again?

Cody took a calming breath. He did not like talking about it but knew she had to be told the truth. “The what is a little more complex. What he’s dying from is cancer, but during the past few years he’s been plagued by several other ailments and problems, not the least of which is poor circulation. It’s only through sheer will that he’s still getting around at all, let alone unassisted. His legs can’t hold out much longer. You felt his touch, how cold his skin feels.”

“But can he get proper medical care out here, so far away from a major hospital?” Her mind tried desperately to take hold and fully comprehend all she had heard.

“The doc stops by once a week. There’s a hospice nurse who comes by three times a week, and there’s Edna, of course. Edna has experience along these lines. Her husband died in much the same manner. It was right after that that she came to work for Buck. She keeps a very close eye on him during the day. I’ve tried to hire a private nurse for twenty-four-hour coverage, but Buck won’t have it.”

“But in case of an emergency…”

“He can be helicoptered to the hospital in twenty minutes.”

Melanie fell back against the wall and stared blankly at the ground as she tried to assimilate everything Cody had told her. A sick feeling churned in the pit of her stomach.

“Are you all right?” Cody’s genuine concern showed in his voice as he reached out to give her some support. He cocked his head and studied her for a moment. She was still ashen and visibly shaken, but making a valiant effort to remain calm.

Melanie felt momentarily light-headed. Then she felt his fingers close around her arm and her body being drawn against his. His strong arms were around her a moment later. Cody had stated all the horrible particulars of her father’s illness in such a matter-of-fact way, almost as if he were reciting a grocery list. But she knew she could not fault him. He clearly had a genuine concern for Buck’s comfort and well-being. She had noticed it in his eyes and had heard it in his warnings to her about upsetting her father.

“I see.” She looked up at him, attempting to regain some sort of control over the conversation. There were too many conflicting emotions…the stark reality of her father’s health and the equally real sensation of the warmth of Cody’s embrace. She saw a moment of tenderness flicker across his face when their eyes locked for a heated instant. She recalled the vivid dream where he had brushed his lips against hers. Too many conflicts…too much confusion. Nothing was happening the way she had anticipated.

This was not right, Melanie told herself. She had to extract herself from the very personal moment they were sharing. She could not deny her attraction to Cody, but she did not know exactly what his game was, and until she had him figured out she needed to keep her distance. She did not trust him…at least not yet. She also questioned whether she could trust herself where Cody Chandler was concerned.

He exerted no physical pressure on her. As soon as she pushed back from him, he released his hold on her. She nervously ran her fingers through her hair. “Uh, does my father know everything?”

“I would never keep anything from him. He’s not the type of man who would want to hide from the truth or be shielded from reality. You’re his daughter—you should know that. He prefers to meet things head-on and deal with them straight out.” He liked the way she had felt in his arms. It had been warm and comfortable—there was no denying that. It was the type of feeling that said there should be more, but until he figured out exactly why she had shown up when she had, he needed to keep a wary eye on her. “Buck knows everything.”

“I wouldn’t go so far as to say I know everything. I did miss the final ‘Jeopardy’ question on television yesterday.” Buck pushed open the screen door and moved unsteadily out onto the front porch, a slight grin playing at the corners of his mouth. “Is it possible that I’ve been the topic of conversation? It would seem to me that two attractive young people could find something better to do on a beautiful spring day than discuss the accumulated knowledge of this old man.”

Melanie caught the warning look Cody shot her way. She turned toward her father. “Sixty-four isn’t very old…Father.” She could not call him “Daddy,” as she had when she was a little girl. The word was totally out of place. It had a feel of warmth, closeness and familiarity that she did not associate with her father.