Brenda Minton - His Little Cowgirl

Bailey didn’t feel like working. She felt like going home and being by herself. Not that she could be alone at home. And today would be worse because Cody would be there, wanting to talk.

Why in the world did he suddenly think they needed to talk things out? Had he been watching afternoon talk shows and learning about sharing feelings?

Or was it just a step in a program?

She sighed, knowing she wasn’t being fair and that God wanted her to give Cody a chance because grace was about being forgiven. She knew all about grace.

“Why do you look like someone messed with your oatmeal?” asked Lacey Gould, her black hair streaked with red, as she walked up behind Bailey, who was starting a fresh pot of coffee. The two of them had been unlikely friends for four years. They didn’t have secrets.

Lacey didn’t know who Meg’s dad was. That was something only God and Bailey’s dad knew. That was Bailey’s only secret from her friend.

“I don’t even like oatmeal.” Bailey poured herself a cup of coffee and reached for the salt shakers that needed to be refilled.

The Hash-It-Out had been busy nonstop for over an hour. Now the crowds had waned down to the regular group of farmers who gathered for mid-morning coffee and good-natured gossip.

Lacey grabbed the pepper shakers and started filling them.

“Rumor has it someone showed up yesterday driving a new truck and pulling an RV. And another rumor states that the truck and RV are still in town.”

“Rumor has it that the rumor mill in this town could grind enough wheat to feed a small country.”

“Cute. That doesn’t really make sense, but it is a little bit funny.” Lacey pulled ten dollars from her pocket and slid it across the counter top. “You had a four-top leave this the day before yesterday.”

Bailey knew better. She didn’t reach for the money. Lacey had a bad habit of trying to help by lying. She was a new Christian and her heart was as big as Texas, even if she didn’t always go about helping the right way.

“You keep it.”

“It’s yours.”

Bailey shook her head. “Good try, sweetie, but I didn’t have a four-top the other day.”

Lacey shoved the money into the front pocket of Bailey’s jeans. “Stop being a hero and let a friend help.”

The phone rang. Bailey glanced toward the hostess station and watched Jill answer. The older woman nodded and then shot a worried glance in Bailey’s direction, with her hand motioning for Bailey to join her.

“I’ll be right back.” Bailey touched Lacey’s arm as she walked toward the hostess.

“Honey, that was someone named Cody, and he said he’s taking your daddy to the hospital in Springfield.”

The floor fell out from under her. Lacey was suddenly there, her hand on Bailey’s. “Let me get someone to drive you.”

“I can drive myself.”

“No, you can’t.”

Bailey was already reaching for her purse. She managed a smile for the two women. “I can drive myself. Could you let Jolynn know that I had to leave?”

“Sure thing, sweetie, but are you sure you’re okay to drive yourself?”

Bailey nodded as she walked away from Jill’s question. At that moment she wasn’t sure about much of anything.

In a daze she walked out the door and across the parking lot, barely noticing the heat and just registering that someone shouted hello. Numb, she felt so numb, and so cold.

It took her a few tries to get the truck started. She pumped the gas, praying hard that the stupid thing wouldn’t let her down, not now. As the engine roared to life she whispered a quiet thank-you.

Springfield was a good thirty-minute drive, and of course she got behind every slow car on the road and always in a no-passing zone. Her heart raced and her hands were shaking. What if she didn’t make it on time? What if this was the end? She couldn’t think about losing her dad, not yet, not now when she needed him so much.

“What if he’s gone and I don’t get to say goodbye?” She whispered into the silent cab of the truck, blinking away the sting of tears.

She couldn’t think of her dad not being in her life. He had always been there for her. He had been the one holding her hand when her mother died, and the one who drove her to the hospital when Meg was born.

Her dad had been the one who hadn’t condemned her for her mistake. He had loved her and shown mercy. He had insisted that everyone makes mistakes. Without those mistakes, why would a person need grace?

Those who are healthy aren’t in need of a physician. In those months after she had returned from Wyoming, she had really come to understand the words Jesus had spoken and the wonderful healing of forgiveness.

Her dad had taught her to bait a hook, and to train a horse. He had taught her how to have faith, and to smile even when smiling wasn’t easy.

“Please, God, don’t take him from me now.”

Roots, this all felt very much like putting down roots. Cody’s mind swirled as he waited for Bailey to arrive.

In the last few years he hadn’t stayed in one place longer than a month. He usually spent time between events parked at the farm of a friend where he kept his livestock.

With Bailey’s dad sick and Meg in his arms, thoughts of leaving fled. He had never known how to stick. Now he didn’t know how he could ever think of leaving.

He knew himself well enough to know that before long the lure of bull riding would tug on him. Between now and then he would pray, hoping that when the time came he would make the right choices.

He knew enough to know that there wouldn’t be any easy answers.

The door of the ER swished open, bringing a gust of warm air from the outside. Cody shifted the sleeping child in his lap and turned. Bailey stood on the threshold of the door, keeping it from closing. She watched him with a look of careful calculation, her gaze drifting from his face to her daughter.

Their daughter.

He couldn’t stand up to greet her, not with Meg curled like one of her kittens, snuggling against his chest. She felt good there, and he didn’t want to let go.

Cody didn’t want to hurt Bailey. It seemed a little too late for that. Her brown eyes shimmered with unshed tears, and if he could have held them both, he would have.

Bailey crossed to where he was sitting. She looked young, and alone. She looked more vulnerable than the twenty-two-year-old young woman he’d known in Wyoming.

“Is he…”

“He’s alive.” He answered the question she didn’t have the heart to ask. “He had an episode with his breathing. They’re running tests. That’s all they’ll tell me because I’m not family.”

Bailey sat down next to him. “I don’t know what I’ll do without him.”

“He isn’t gone, Bailey.”

She only nodded. Shifting, he pulled a hand free and reached to cover her arm. With a sigh she looked up, nodding as if she knew that he wanted to comfort her. Her lips were drawn in and her eyes melting with tears. The weight of the world was on her shoulders.

He wanted to take that weight from her. He wanted to ease the burden. He wanted to hold her. He moved his arm, circling her shoulders and drawing her close, ignoring the way she resisted, and then feeling when she chose to accept. Her shoulder moved and she leaned against him, crumbling into his side.

“I won’t leave you alone.” He whispered the words, unsure if she heard but feeling good about the promise.

Time to cowboy up, Cody. He could almost hear his grandfather say the words to a little boy who had fallen off his pony.

The door across from them opened. A doctor walked into the room, made a quick scan of the area and headed in their direction. He didn’t look like a man about to give the worst news a family could hear. Cody breathed a sigh of relief.