Brenda Mott - Cowgirl, Say Yes

He expected to hear the engine crank over. Instead, the small ticking of a bad starter reached his ears. Tess’s lips moved as she mumbled in frustration and gave the Ram another shot. Nothing.

Wade walked toward her, telling himself he couldn’t very well drive off and leave her stranded. “Engine trouble?” he asked, leaning his elbows on the door frame above her open window.

She glared at him. “Nope. I just like the view here.” Then she rolled her eyes in a good-natured way. “I think it’s the starter.”

“Can I give you a lift? I was going over to your dad’s feed store, anyway.”

“Actually, that’s not where I was going. At least, not right now.”

“Yeah?”

She hesitated, looking uncomfortable. He wondered briefly if she’d been on her way to see a man. The thought that she had someone in her life hadn’t occurred to him for some reason, which was stupid. Just because he had no social life didn’t mean she wouldn’t.

“I understand,” he said.

She gave him a puzzled frown.

“Hey, if you’ve got someone to meet, it’s okay by me.” He blurted out the words like a high-school boy, then immediately felt foolish. What was he doing? “That is—”

She cut him off. “I’m not exactly meeting someone.” Again, she hesitated. “I thought I’d stop and see my mother before I headed home.”

He stared blankly at her for a moment before what she said registered. Of course. Tess’s mom lived at the County Care Facility. Years ago, he’d heard Raelene Vega was ill, but he’d never paid much attention to town rumors and hadn’t been nosy enough to come right out and ask Lloyd what was wrong with his wife.

“Oh.” He clamped his mouth over the question that now threatened to spill out. It was none of his business. For some reason, though, he suddenly felt compelled to ask.

As if reading his thoughts, Tess spoke. “She has Alzheimer’s. I try to visit her at least twice a week.”

“Oh,” he repeated. “I had no idea. I heard people around town talking about your mom being sick, but I didn’t know…uh…isn’t she a little young to have Alzheimer’s?” He wasn’t really sure how old Rae was. But Lloyd appeared to be about fifty-something, and Raelene would likely be close to his age.

A look of pain crossed Tess’s face, then was gone. “Yes, she is. Mom developed a rare form of the disease when I was a teenager.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.” He held her gaze, and suddenly, a picture of what Tess’s adolescence must have been like flashed through his mind. A sick mother. A dad on his own. Wade could certainly relate. “I’d be happy to drive you over to see your mom,” he said.

“There’s no need. It’s not that far. I can walk.” She pushed open the door of her pickup and stepped out.

She felt small to his six foot two. The urge to reach down and take the ball cap from her head gripped him as they stood toe to toe. He’d never before seen her hair out of braids. He wondered what it looked like beneath that cap, what it would feel like trailing between his fingers.

Man, those pancakes must’ve weighed down not just his stomach but his mind, as well.

“It’s a good two miles or so,” he argued. “Let me drive you.”

She lifted a shoulder, but he saw the pulse at the base of her throat jump. He wasn’t the only one aware of how close they were standing to each other.

“All right. Thanks.” Tess closed the pickup’s door, leaving the window down. Not many people around town bothered to lock their vehicles.

She walked beside him toward his Ford, and he felt like her date as he held the door for her and gave her a hand up into the four-wheel drive. Her palm felt soft, yet he could detect a row of calluses that told him she worked hard. Her arm was tanned, slender and well formed beneath her tank top, and just a peek of a pale-blue sports bra greeted his view as he let his gaze roam her body.

What would she look like in a pair of Rockies jeans?

Wade shook off the thought. He had to stop it. This was crazy. She was Macy’s 4-H leader, for heaven’s sake.

Letting out a sigh, he moved around to the driver’s side and climbed into the pickup. After firing the engine, he pulled out of the parking lot.

A picture came to mind as he drove toward the County Care Facility. One of Tess as a stubborn child, refusing to eat her hamburger casserole, but gaining points as a good little girl for finishing all her broccoli.

He laughed without fully realizing it.

“What’s so funny?” Tess stared at him, a soft smile on her face. The sort of smile a person has when he or she isn’t sure what the joke is.

Even with her rumpled hair and her tattered ball cap, she was pretty. He found himself picturing her in the Rockies once more.

“Nothing.” He faced forward and concentrated on the road. “Nothing at all.”

THE MINUTE WADE DROVE AWAY toward the County Care Facility, Tess began to wish she hadn’t accepted a ride from him. Would he want to come in with her? Or would he simply be satisfied with dropping her off? She hoped for the latter. Seeing her mother so sick was difficult enough. It wasn’t something she wanted to share with Wade—or anyone else, for that matter. She even found it hard to visit her mom in the company of her own father. The look in his eyes of a haunting, continual loss was usually more than she could bear.

When they pulled up in the CCF parking lot, Tess opened the door before Wade could get any more chivalrous ideas about doing it for her. “Thanks for the ride,” she said, stepping out onto the pavement.

“Do you want me to come in with you?” he offered. “Or wait here for you?”

“Neither. I’ll call Dad to come get me.”

“You sure?” He studied her.

“Uh-huh.” She nodded, feeling a little bad about turning down Wade’s kindness. “Thanks again.” Closing the door, she gave a wave, then quickly turned to head for the building’s front entrance.

The nurses greeted her by name as she entered. Molly, her favorite, smiled and fell into step beside her. She spoke in a husky, nearly gruff voice that belied the tender care she bestowed upon her patients. “I was just getting ready to take your mom a little treat,” she said, indicating the tray in her hand. A small bowl of tapioca pudding rested on it. Her mother’s favorite. Or at least, it had been when she could remember things like that. “She wasn’t real happy with her oatmeal this morning.”

Tess managed a smile. “That’s sweet of you, Molly. I’m sure she’ll like that.” She hesitated. “How’s Mom doing today?” Lately, Raelene’s days went from not so good to worse. Tess wondered how much longer her mother could cling to life, existing this way. The black thought made her stomach churn.

“She’s doing pretty good,” Molly said. Her face creased with sympathy. “I admire the way you come see Rae all the time, hon. She may not really be aware of who you are, but…well, it’s nice that you’re here.”

“I could never abandon her,” Tess said. “She’s my mom.”

Molly nodded, her short, salt-and-pepper curls bobbing. “May God bless you for that, my dear.” Together, they entered the room where Raelene sat in a chair near the window.

“Raelene, look who’s here,” Molly said. “It’s Tess.”

Rae’s face lit up, and she smiled. “Yes.”

Tess’s chest gave a little hitch. For the briefest moment, Rae almost looked normal. But Tess knew better. Rae might recognize her briefly, but in the span of a heartbeat, she’d once more have no idea who Tess was. Where was the justice in that? Why did God allow such things to happen to such a good person?

With no more answer to her question now than she’d had eleven years ago, Tess pasted a smile on her face and walked over to stand beside Rae. “Hi, Mama. How are you today?” Rae held the card Tess had given her for Mother’s Day, twisting it in her hands. The edges were bent and one was torn, but it didn’t matter. As long as Raelene got some enjoyment from it. Tess reached to stroke her mother’s hair, which had once been dark and silky but was now gray and brittle.