Margot Dalton - Even the Nights are Better

While Vernon and Martin edged toward a vacant couch, Sam Russell followed them into the crowded room and Lynn went to him, moving blindly into his arms like a child, oblivious to everyone else in the room. Sam held her in a close embrace, patting her heaving back and murmuring to her, his blond head close to her auburn one. Vernon swallowed and looked away from them, sinking down onto the couch and glancing around.

Cynthia McKinney sat across the room from him, with Rose Purdy, the doctor’s wife, on one side and Carolyn on the other, both of them holding her hands firmly and murmuring to her by turns. Beverly Townsend sat next to her mother, her lovely golden face streaked with tears.

Vernon couldn’t help wondering as he looked thoughtfully at Beverly if the tears were real or if they were just there for effect, in case somebody from the media might be around snapping camera footage of the bereaved family.

But as soon as he framed the thought, he chided himself for being uncharitable. He knew Beverly had her good qualities, and that Carolyn, despite her frequent impatience with the girl, loved her daughter deeply. Still, Vernon found himself wondering sometimes how a woman as generous, intelligent and practical as Carolyn Townsend could have produced an offspring so self-absorbed and shallow.

As he was gazing with cool appraisal at Beverly, a couple of children came wandering into the room hand in hand. They were little girls of about seven and three, both wearing institutional gray bathrobes. The older one trundled a mobile IV unit along beside her, strapped to her left arm, and the other one limped badly, trailing a leg in a heavy steel and plastic brace.

While Vernon watched in amazement, Beverly got up, smiling through her tears, and gathered the smaller child tenderly in her arms. She murmured something to the older girl, then took the child’s hand and walked from the room still carrying the younger girl. Vernon watched them go, stunned by the little tableau and the obvious warmth and sincerity of Beverly’s interaction with the children.

He shook his head and then smiled automatically as Reverend Howard Blake and his wife, Eva, came into the room, followed by Bubba Gibson, who looked hastily assembled and a lot less chipper than usual.

Vern shifted awkwardly on the hard vinyl seat, waiting for his chance to go to Cynthia and offer his own sympathy and support. But she was surrounded, and the crowd seemed to be growing by the minute. There was another stir at the door and Cal McKinney entered, limping slightly from an old rodeo injury. He was followed by Serena Davis, who looked quiet and pale.

No wonder, Vernon thought, glancing at his watch. Cal was already notorious for how fast he drove that stretch of highway between Wolverton and the home ranch, but he must have set some new records today. His body was tense, his hazel eyes glittering with tears as he was gathered into the arms of his family.

Vernon felt a startling quick stab of pain, wondering what it must be like to be J.T. McKinney and have such a rich legacy, to have all this family loving and fretting for you, these tall handsome sons weeping over you….

He looked up to find Carolyn’s blue eyes resting on him with mute appeal. He began to rise, to move toward her. But just at that moment the room fell silent and everyone turned to the door where Nate Purdy stood, weary and somber in his crisp white lab coat.

Immediately all eyes were fastened on the doctor’s face and there wasn’t a sound in the room except for a few quick ragged intakes of breath. The group waited tensely, watching Nate as he moved into the room and stood by Cynthia and his wife, dropping a hand onto the shoulder of each.

“Well, I think we’re through the worst of it, Cynthia,” he said. “And we’d better thank the good Lord that we’ve got one tough hombre in there, or he wouldn’t still be with us.”

Cynthia looked up at him, her brown eyes widening, her cheeks as white as the pale walls all around her.

“Is he…did he…?” she faltered. Carolyn gripped the younger woman’s hand and slipped her free arm around Cynthia’s shoulders, holding her close, cuddling her like a child.

“He had a massive coronary,” Nate said, “just a few minutes ago. The first attack at home this morning was actually a precursor. As soon as I examined him at the ranch I expected a more serious cardiac event to follow shortly, and we were real lucky that we got him here in time. If we hadn’t had the equipment and the medication available, I think we just might have lost him, tough as he is.”

The room stirred and settled. There was a clearing of throats, a restless shuffling of boots, a flurry of hands dashing furtively at tear-filled eyes.

“The worst is over,” Nate Purdy repeated, turning to address the room in general. “He’s resting comfortably now, but he sure won’t be if this gang descends on him. Only two visitors at a time, and nobody but immediate family. The rest of you good people, y’all go on home now, and come back to visit him when he’s feeling stronger. And thanks for coming,” he added with a warm tired smile. “I’m sure Cynthia appreciates all the support.”

Cynthia nodded blindly and struggled to her feet, supported by Carolyn and Rose. She managed to smile and nod her agreement with the doctor. “Yes,” she whispered. “Thank you all. Thank you so much. I’m sure that J.T. would…”

With these words Cynthia’s poise deserted her and she choked, then leaned gratefully on Tyler who had crossed the room to stand beside her.

“You and me first, Cynthia, okay?” he murmured huskily, putting his arm around her. “Let’s go see Daddy.”

Nate Purdy turned to follow them out of the room, then paused and looked back at Carolyn. “By the way, Carolyn,” he said, “I certainly consider you immediate family, if you’d like to wait and see him for a minute.”

But Carolyn shook her head. “No, Nate,” she said in a low voice. “That’s all right. Too many of us right now will just tire him. Cal and Lynn can go in next, and I’ll come back tomorrow when he’s stronger.”

People began to file out, still murmuring to one another in hushed tones. Vernon took advantage of the general exodus to cross the room and sink down beside Carolyn.

“Hi, Vern,” she said, giving him a small bleak smile. “It’s nice of you to come.”

“Oh, Caro,” he murmured, deeply moved by her evident pain and weariness. “How could I stay away, girl? Is there anything I can do for you?”

She shook her head automatically, then paused. “Actually, there is, come to think of it,” she said. “I drove over to the Double C this morning as soon as I heard, and left my car there. I came in with Tyler and Lynn. Now Lynn’s giving Beverly a ride home later this evening and she’ll be bringing my car back then, so I guess I’m on foot. Could you…could you give me a ride home?”

“Nothing would please me more,” Vernon told her with warm sincerity. “That is,” he added solemnly, trying to make her smile, “if you don’t have any moral objections to riding in a Camaro.”

“It’ll probably wreck my reputation completely,” Carolyn said, responding gallantly to his effort at humor, “but what the hell. A good reputation’s a dull kind of thing, isn’t it, Vern?”

“I NEVER THOUGHT it would be J.T.,” Carolyn murmured, gazing blindly out the window as Vernon’s car skimmed along the curving country roads. “Of all the people in my life, I’ve always looked on him as the strongest, the most indestructible, somehow.”

“I guess we all have,” Vernon said. “I remember looking up to J.T. as a boy, way back when he was a football and basketball star at school and a rodeo star in the summertime, everything a kid could ever dream about.”