Roz Fox - More to Texas than Cowboys

That comment caught Greer’s attention. She swung her head between the two. “Oh, then you and your family live in the other ranchette? Ed Tanner said a developer had built two before the bottom fell out of the real estate market here.”

“No. My husband, Ryan Gallagher, manages his dad’s ranch. The Four Aces borders you on the north and east.”

“Oh. Gallagher as in state senator?” Greer’s eyes rose from the page she was filling out. “I, ah, used to live in Homestead. Garrett’s a year younger than me, so I knew him the best of the Gallagher boys. If Trevor hasn’t changed too much, I could probably pick him out of a crowd. Ryan…I’m guessing he’s Garrett and Trevor’s older brother?”

Kristin nodded. “Wow, so you’ve come home, too? Like Ryan and Miranda. And Callie Montgomery, but she’d been gone a long time. You likely haven’t had a chance to eat at her café yet. Best family dining in town.” Kristin removed the film plate. “I need to go develop this. There’s no doubt that her arm’s broken. I have to be sure the bones are aligned and that there’s no restriction of blood.” She smiled down at the supine child. “You lie still as a mouse until I get back. Let your mom finish those forms. Noah, you could take a seat in the waiting room. The new Western Horseman magazine is out there.”

“Thanks, Kristin, but I’ll stay and keep Shelby company. We’re old buddies. We both like horses and dogs. She’ll have a cast, right? Maybe I’ll tell her about the time I broke my foot playing soccer and had to start my school year wearing one.” He pulled up a chair and sat next to the exam table. “Casts aren’t so bad. Everybody gives you sympathy, including teachers. And the kids all want to sign their names on the plaster.”

If the P.A. leveled a questioning glance in Noah’s direction, he was impervious. Shelby, it seemed, didn’t want to talk about casts, but pumped him for information about the care and feeding of dogs. She asked about different breeds, and Noah shared what he knew. She prattled on even after Kristin returned.

“Alignment’s good,” the P.A. said. “But I still have to deaden the arm in order to straighten out the bones. If anyone’s squeamish, you’re excused.”

Greer blanched but set the clipboard aside. Noah saw that pain filled her gold-flecked hazel eyes as she gently combed her fingers through Shelby’s tangled hair. “Shel, I want you to hold my hand tight so Mrs. Gallagher can fix your arm good as new.”

Noah rose to stand opposite her. “If you’re not up to this, just say the word. I’ll be glad to supply the muscle needed to hold her still.”

The eyes Greer raised to meet his were glossy with tears, but he recognized in them a rock-steady determination. Reaching across Shelby’s legs, Noah briefly squeezed Greer’s hand. That move earned him a second inspection from Kristin, who made no remark, however, except to give Shelby permission to go right on talking about dogs. Which, of course, she did. Nonstop.

Later, Greer would think her daughter had brought up every pet a friend had owned, and remarked on every cat or dog she’d seen on the street. When Shelby’s porous pink cast graced her arm from fingertips to just below her elbow, Greer’s ears rang and her nerves were shot. But had Shelby run down? No. She examined the pros and cons of big and little dogs until she fell asleep on the drive home.

Noah let five minutes elapse before posing a worried question to Greer. “You’ve been very glum since we left the clinic. Is something wrong? Are you worried about her arm healing properly? Or is it a concern about not having insurance? I’m sorry, but I couldn’t help overhearing you ask Kristin about a payment plan.”

Greer leaned back and shut her eyes. “It’s all of that and more. I think whoever said you could never go home again was right. I’m beginning to think chucking everything in Colorado to move here was a mistake. The condition of the ranch was bad omen number one. Shelby’s accident is number two. I’m wondering what’ll happen next.”

“Where you went wrong,” he snorted, “is believing there’s such a thing as good and bad omens. Life is all about having faith in a higher power. Place your trust in His hands, Greer.”

“Yeah, right! The last thing I need is a sermon.” Her voice rose and woke Shelby, who started to cry, claiming her arm hurt.

Greer awkwardly gathered the gangly girl into a hug, not a simple matter because they both wore seat belts.

“Mama, will you ask Father Kelley to put in my favorite CD?”

“Shh, honey bunny, don’t you remember I had you bring the CD case into the kitchen? We’ll be home soon. Until our furniture arrives, I’ll make you a bed on the porch swing and you can listen to music there.”

“That’s not going to be very comfortable,” Noah interjected. “How about if we stop at your place and leave a note for your movers on the door with my phone number. You two can spend the afternoon at my house. I’m sure my living room couch is more comfortable than your porch swing. I’ll ride another of my horses back to your ranch and collect Jasper.”

“Thank you, but no,” Greer said primly. “You’ve done quite enough. I wouldn’t presume to take you away from the people in your congregation.”

Noah could hardly miss the brittle edge to her voice. Every so often he slanted a curious glance in the mirror. Each time she pursed her lips and turned aside.

It was clear to Noah when he pulled in and stopped outside her house that Greer couldn’t wait to see the last of him. Playing back the afternoon’s events, he was unable to put a finger on what he might have done wrong. But he was a pretty good reader of body language. Greer wanted to carry Shelby from the Blazer to the porch swing without accepting his help. At nine, the kid wasn’t much shorter than Greer. And she was all arms and legs. Shelby fretted, whined and cried, saying, “Ouch, Mama, I hurt. Please let him carry me. He’s bigger and stronger.”

The tears in Shelby’s eyes moved Greer to give in, albeit reluctantly. She gathered up the blankets and pillows from the car that Shelby had curled up in on their driving trip. Bustling about, doing her level best to ignore Noah, Greer spread pillows and blankets on the swing so he could put Shelby down.

“Do you have a cell phone?”

“Yes,” she said, but didn’t elaborate or offer her number.

He reached for his wallet and took out a business card that listed his numbers at home and at the church office. He passed it to Greer. She stuffed the card in her purse, then abruptly went into the house. The screen door banged shut. She opened it just enough to tell Shelby, “Honey, you need to thank Father Kelley so he can get along home. I’m going to fetch the CD player and CDs.”

Noah returned the wallet to his back pocket. Nothing in his beliefs said he had to hang around where he wasn’t wanted. With a smile for Shelby, he grabbed his saddle from behind the swing where she now sat, her arm propped on a pile of pillows.

“Thanks for everything you did,” she said, tearily. “Mama wouldn’t like if I asked, but…will you come see me again tomorrow, Father Kelley?”

Hearing the woebegone tone of her request, Noah hesitated. “Maybe I’ll ride over if you’ll agree to call me Noah instead of Father Kelley. Tell your mom the same goes for her. Titles are too stuffy. After all, we’re neighbors and I hope we’ll be friends.”

About that time he chanced to see Greer peering out a kitchen window—checking to see if he’d left. Her expression plainly said she wanted him gone before she put in another appearance on the porch. That meant he should backpedal on his promise.

“Actually, I may not be able to come by, Shelby. A man in my position doesn’t have much free time. Tomorrow I need to work on a sermon. Saturday I coach a kids’ basketball team. Sunday I have a full schedule. I know you don’t feel like doing anything right now, but by Monday you’ll be as good as new except for wearing a cast. And like I said, everyone you meet at school will want to sign their name on it. That’s tradition.”