She of many dragons, p.9
Rugrats and Rawhide, page 9
He heard the toilet flush, water splash in the sink then shut off. He strained but heard no other sound. When she didn’t come out, he tapped on the door.
“Joanie?”
“What?” she replied, her voice muffled.
“Are you okay?” he asked in concern.
When she didn’t answer, he pushed open the door. She sat on the toilet seat, her arm hooked over the edge of the sink and her face buried in the crook of her arm.
He stepped into the room, unsure what he should do. “Can I get you anything?” he asked.
A sob shook her shoulders and he felt a sliver of fear work its way down his spine. He didn’t have any experience with a woman’s tears. At least not in a situation like this. He hesitated a moment longer, wondering whether he shouldn’t just leave her to suffer alone, thinking his presence might just add to her misery.
But he quickly discovered that he couldn’t leave, not with her being so sick. He crossed to hunker down at her feet. Bracing a hand on the sink near her arm, he leaned to brush the hair away from her face and tuck it behind her ear. “Morning sickness?” he asked softly.
She nodded, her sobs increasing in strength.
“Is there anything I can do?”
She shook her head, but refused to look at him.
J.D. knelt in silence, stroking his hand down her back in an attempt to soothe her. A thin piece of fabric was all that separated her bare skin from his. Through it he felt the quiver of her flesh, the heave of her shoulders with each drawn breath. He tightened his lips as an emotion washed over him, something he’d never experienced before…compassion. Oh, he may have felt it on occasion, but never so strongly, never so deeply that he wanted to take what pained a person and make it his own.
Slowly, her sobs lessened and she lifted her head, wiping away the trace of tears with shaky hands.
“I’m sorry,” she murmured, ducking her head and catching the edges of her robe to drag across her knees. “I feel better now.”
J.D. doubted that. Her face was still as white as a sheet and her fingers trembled in the folds of her robe. He stood, cupping her elbow in his hand. “Why don’t you lie down for a while?”
Joanie stood and shook her head. “No, I need to get Marissa and Shane ready for bed. I’ll be all right.”
J.D. wagged his head at her stubbornness. “I’ll see to the kids.”
Joanie looked up at him in surprise, her eyes still watery from the tears. “You?”
J.D. scowled to think that she would doubt his ability to deal with two little children. “I think I can handle it,” he said dryly.
Though she continued to argue with him—if only halfheartedly—that she was fine and quite able to take care of the twins herself, J.D. ignored her and guided her to the side of her bed. He released his hold on her long enough to throw back the bedspread, then waited while she climbed in.
Taking the covers, he pulled them snugly over her, then switched off her bedside lamp. “Don’t worry about the kids,” he assured her gently. “I’ll take care of them.” He left the room, closing the door softly behind him.
When he returned an hour later to check on her, she was sleeping soundly.
Joanie awakened and rolled to her back, moaning, knowing she should get up but not wanting to. She opened one eye to glance at the clock. The illuminated dial read eight o’clock. Both eyes flipped open with a start. Eight o’clock! She never slept this late! Marissa and Shane were probably up and wanting their breakfast. Her thoughts quickly flicked to the night before and J.D.’s offer to put the two to bed. Bolting up, she barreled down the short hall to check on them.
When she found their room empty, she knew a moment’s panic as she raced for the den. There she found them on the floor, snuggled together on a pallet of quilts in front of the dark television screen, sleeping. With a hand pressed to her pounding heart, she touched a finger to her lips then to each head, grateful to find them safe.
Not that she thought J.D. was incapable of caring for them, she assured herself as she glanced around the room, but she was a mother, a protective one, and had been solely responsible for their safekeeping for so long that it was hard to entrust anyone else with their care.
On the coffee table she found a half-empty bowl of popcorn, a cardboard pizza box and three empty cola cans. The third can made her hopeful that J.D. had still been in her house when her two children had decided to throw a late-night party. Chuckling softly, she gathered the remnants of their feast and headed for the kitchen.
When she pushed through the swinging door that led to the kitchen, she stopped, sucking in a startled breath. J.D. sat at the kitchen table, his chest bare, his lips puckered as he blew on a mug of steaming coffee to cool it. The morning paper was spread on the table beneath his elbows. His hair was mussed, his feet bare, and he looked so at home at her kitchen table and so incredibly handsome that Joanie felt a lump of emotion tighten in her throat.
When the door rocked back on its hinges behind her with a squeak, J.D. glanced up, his lips still pursed. His gaze touched hers briefly before dropping to her hands. He cringed at the sight of the items she carried. “Oops,” he murmured guiltily. “You caught us before I had a chance to hide the evidence.”
Joanie .simply stared. “You spent the night?” she asked in disbelief.
“Yeah. When I went back to check on you, you were asleep. To be on the safe side, I decided to just sack out on the sofa.”
J. D. Cawthon on her sofa? Joanie didn’t quite know what to think of this.
When she continued to stand at the door, staring, a self-conscious grin chipped at one corner of his mouth. He held up the mug of coffee. “Hope you don’t mind. I made myself at home.”
Flustered to learn that he’d actually slept in her house without her knowledge, Joanie mumbled an unintelligible response and crossed to the sink. She dumped the empty containers in the wastebasket, then turned on the tap to rinse out the popcorn bowl.
“Are you feeling better this morning?”
Joanie felt heat flood her cheeks. He’d witnessed her sickness, seen her at her most vulnerable, hugging the toilet. She set the bowl aside to drain, keeping her back to J.D. “Much better, thank you.” She caught up a towel and turned to him, drying her hands, hoping her embarrassment didn’t show. “I appreciate your taking care of the children.”
“They weren’t any trouble.”
In spite of her embarrassment, Joanie chortled, knowing he was only being kind. Her children were basically good kids, but they could smell a sucker a mile away. “How long did it take them to convince you to let them camp out in the den?”
It was J.D.’s turn to blush. “Well,” he replied hesitantly, “they didn’t seem to be too sleepy, so I let them make a pallet on the floor, hoping that a movie would put them to sleep.”
“I bet that took awhile, considering they were wired.”
“Wired?” he repeated, frowning.
“I don’t allow them to have any caffeine after dinner.”
“What caffeine?”
Joanie laughed again. “The cola. It’s loaded with it.”
J.D. grimaced. “Sorry. I didn’t think about that.”
Joanie reached for a mug and filled it with coffee. “Don’t worry,” she said, pausing long enough to give him a consoling pat on the shoulder before sitting opposite him at the table. “They usually test every babysitter to see what they can get by with.”
Baby-sitter? J.D. had been called a lot of things in his life, but never a baby-sitter. He wasn’t at all sure he liked the tag.
“Although,” Joanie added, raising one brow, “most of their baby-sitters are closer to sixteen than thirty-three and usually manage to keep their clothes on.”
J.D. self-consciously laid a hand on his chest and rubbed it as if only now realizing his state of undress. “Never liked sleeping in my clothes,” he mumbled.
Joanie just chuckled and took another sip of her coffee. “I’m surprised that you slept at all. I would imagine that sofa is about a foot short of being comfortable for a man your size.”
“I’ve slept on worse.”
Joanie nodded her head in agreement, knowing from her brother George’s experience what riding the rodeo circuit was like. “I’m sure you have.” She caught her cup between her hands, her expression suddenly serious. “Why did you come here, J.D.?”
He shuffled his bare feet under the table, uncomfortable with the question. “Like I said, to check on y’all.”
A hint of a smile softened the corners of Joanie’s mouth. “Although that’s really sweet, it’s unnecessary.”
J.D. frowned, his shoulders stiffening defensively. “Looked to me like I came at just the right time. Who’d have taken care of the kids for you if I hadn’t been here?”
“I’d have managed. I’ve been doing the job all of their lives.”
Her response made him think of the kids’ dad. “Doesn’t their father ever help out?”
Joanie sighed, turning her face to the kitchen window. “No.” She stared a moment, her eyes filled with what J.D. could only term regret. “Josh moved to California after our divorce. Distance alone would make it difficult for him to take a very active role in their lives, although he does visit now and then.”
J.D. heard what she didn’t say. “But distance isn’t the only factor,” he returned.
Joanie turned to look him, her face tight with carefully controlled emotion. “No, distance isn’t the only factor.” She sighed, letting the anger go as quickly as it had come, and turned her gaze to her coffee mug. “Josh didn’t adapt well to fatherhood,” she admitted, then chuckled ruefully as she slowly turned the mug in her hands. “In fact, Marissa and Shane scared him to death. He didn’t have a clue how to respond to them and, to be honest, never really made much of an attempt.”
Not knowing what to say, J.D. sat in silence, waiting for her to go on.
“In retrospect, we should never have married,” she said with regret, “much less had children. Josh avoided commitment, whether it was to our marriage or to his children or even to a job.”
“Doesn’t he help with their support?”
Joanie slowly shook her head. “No, not really. Occasionally, he’ll have an attack of conscience and send us a check. But those times are rare.”
“Couldn’t you sue him for child support?”
Joanie shrugged. “I could,” she replied, then added, “but I won’t.”
“Why not?”
“To start with, the legal hassle involved. But more importantly, I feel whatever he contributes to their care should come from his heart, not from some judge forcing his compliance.”
J.D. glanced at Joanie’s stomach and felt his own guilt rise as he thought of his reasons for coming to Liberty Hill. Granted, he’d wanted to check on Joanie and see if she needed anything, but he knew his offer didn’t come any more from his heart than the absent Josh’s occasional check.
He had no feelings for the baby that grew inside Joanie. Truth be known, he was still having a difficult time accepting the fact that he had fathered a child. There was nothing substantial to confirm his participation, nothing to see, nothing to put his hands on to give the situation any sense of reality.
Not that he doubted Joanie’s word. He didn’t. But he was a man who dealt with facts, not fantasy. And for now, at least, the baby that secretly grew inside her was more fantasy than fact.
Tears blurring her vision, Joanie picked up the onehundred-dollar bill from the kitchen counter and curled her fingers around it as she drew it to her heart. The kindness in the gesture touched her as nothing else could. She crossed to the window and looked out just in time to see J.D.’s truck pull away from the curb.
That he hadn’t mentioned the money didn’t surprise her. It would be like J.D. to leave it for her to find rather than give it to her outright. He probably assumed she wouldn’t have accepted it…which she wouldn’t have if he’d offered it first. She didn’t need his help. At least, not yet.
She watched until his truck disappeared around a turn, then tucked the money into her pocket, saving it for the day when she would.
With school back in session, Joanie’s and her children’s days quickly fell into a routine they were all familiar with—rising at six, a quick breakfast together, then off to school. With the twins in kindergarten now, Joanie didn’t have to worry about fulltime day care any longer, only the hour at the end of the day when their school schedules differed.
Earlier in the summer, she’d made arrangements with a neighbor to pick up the children at three and keep them with her at her home until Joanie got off work at four. Marissa and Shane usually spent the remainder of the afternoon playing outside while Joanie graded papers at the kitchen table and cooked dinner.
The only kink in the schedule was with Joanie and her decreased energy level due to her pregnancy. By the time she arrived home, she was exhausted from standing on her. feet all day and wanted nothing more than a nice cozy nap. She knew from experience that the fatigue would pass, but until it did, she had to give a wide berth to the sofa and its temptation as she crossed the living room on her way to the kitchen.
In the past, weekends during the school year were spent catching up on housekeeping chores and laundry, with a wild dash through the grocery store tossed in to refill the refrigerator and pantry for the next week’s meals. But a kink in that schedule soon presented itself, as well. That kink came in the form of J. D. Cawthon.
Saturday morning, Joanie was in the driveway, buckling the twins into their seat-belts for the trip to the grocery store when a truck pulled across the end of the drive. Joanie glanced up to see J.D. climb from the cab. Dressed in jeans, a denim shirt and scuffed ropers he strolled up the driveway, looking as handsome as the devil himself. Her heart kicked against her ribs at the sight of him, but she quickly stilled it by reminding herself that his unexpected visit wasn’t a social call, but one made out of a sense of duty.
He stopped beside her, hooked his thumbs through his belt loops and looked down at her, a half grin teasing the corner of his mouth. “Are y’all coming or going?”
In spite of her attempts to remain unaffected, Joanie felt herself smiling into eyes as blue as the sky above. “Going. We’re on our way to do some grocery shopping.”
“Mind if I tag along?”
Though she couldn’t imagine why J.D. would want to go shopping with them, she shrugged. “Suit yourself.”
It must have suited him because, without another word, he rounded the hood of the car and climbed in, folding his long legs beneath the dash of her compact car. Once settled, he draped an arm along the back of the seat and twisted around to look behind him. “Hi, kids. How was your first full week of school?”
That one question carried the conversation all through the drive to the store, then up and down its aisles while Joanie shopped for the items on her list. At the checkout, J.D. waited patiently while the cashier rang up their purchases, then quietly shouldered Joanie out of the way when she reached for her purse.
Stunned, Joanie stood staring while he pulled out his wallet and paid for her groceries, then hefted Marissa up and stuffed her in the cart along with the sacks. “You climb on below, cowboy,” he ordered Shane, then proceeded to push the loaded cart through the double doors and out to the parking lot.
Joanie ran to catch up.
“J.D., you’re not paying for our food,” she admonished him.
He plucked the keys from her hand and opened the trunk. “Why not?” he asked as he began shifting sacks from the cart to the trunk.
“Because…” Flustered, Joanie struggled to think of a reason. “Because you’re not eating the food. We are.”
J.D. slammed down the trunk lid, then scooped Marissa out of the cart and into his arms. He looked at the little girl, his expression woeful. “I guess that means I don’t get any dinner, huh, kiddo?” he said, then shifted a pitiful gaze to Joanie.
Marissa threw a protective arm around his shoulder. “Sure you do, J.D.,” she assured him, patting him consolingly. “Mama didn’t mean what she said.” She glanced at her mother for confirmation. “Did you, Mama?”
From that Saturday on, J.D.’s visits became a weekly ritual that Marissa and Shane grew to look forward to…and Joanie tried her best not to. He never came empty-handed. He always brought something, whether it was a sack of vegetables from Lupe and Manuel’s garden, or steaks to cook out on the grill.
Joanie tried to convince him that his visits weren’t expected and his gifts unnecessary, but he continued to show up like clockwork every Saturday morning, prepared to spend the day. He mowed her yard, changed the oil in her clunker of a car and even played baseball with Marissa and Shane.
Though Joanie knew that everything he did, he did out of a sense of guilt, his actions, especially those directed at her children, touched her heart in a way money never could.
Two bald light bulbs swung from the ceiling of the old barn, casting light on the flatbed trailer where Joanie worked stuffing paper flowers through chicken wire. A width of red corrugated cardboard skirted the edge of the flatbed trailer which was already hooked up to the John Deere tractor that would pull it during the Liberty Hill Fall Festival parade. The skeleton of a huge panther shaped from chicken wire stood in the middle of the platform. Joanie knelt at the side of the panther, poking black paper flowers through the small metal circles. Her muscles ached from the tedious work and her fingers throbbed from pricks made by the wire.
Propped on a hay bale nearby, a boom box filled the cavernous room with pulsing rap music. About a dozen teenagers, doing what teenagers do best, milled around the room, talking and laughing and flirting, but accomplishing little. Joanie pressed a hand to her forehead, silently wishing the batteries in the boom box would die. Her children were home with a baby-sitter and hopefully by now in bed, which was exactly where she wanted to be…home in bed.
But with the Liberty Hill Festival parade scheduled for ten o’clock the next morning and the high school’s float not even half-finished, Joanie knew bedtime for her was still a long way off.
