Chase."
He grunted noncommittally. "Pete's heading home, you say?"
"That's right."
"He's got all my stuff in his trailer."
"Taken care of." She took a cup of custard from his bed tray and peeled back the foil seal. "He dropped everything off at the coliseum on his way out of town early this morning.
I picked it all up there."
Without realizing he was doing so, he opened his mouth when she foisted a spoonful of custard on him.
"You went to all that trouble for me?"
"No trouble."
"Did you call my family?"
"No. I wanted to ask you about that first."
"Don't call them."
"Are you sure that's what you want?"
"Positive."
"They'll want to know, Chase."
"They'll find out soon enough. When they
I' do, they'll make an issue of it."
"Well, they should. You could have been killed."
"And wouldn't that have been a tragedy?" he asked sarcastically.
She stopped spooning in the custard. "Yes.
It would have been."
He looked ready to argue the point, but turned his head away instead and with annoyance, pushed back the bed tray. "Look,
Marcie, I appreciate—"
"What happened to Goosey?"
He looked her over carefully. The carrot-colored hair she'd had in kindergarten had mellowed to a soft red, shot through with gold. It was still naturally curly and had a mind of its own, but she had learned to arrange it artfully.
For years she had vainly tried to tan. She used to pray that all her freckles would run together. After several severe sunburns and weeks of unsightly peeling, she had eventually given up on that futile endeavor. She had decided that if she couldn't have the sleek, golden tan of beach bunnies, she would go in the opposite direction and play up her fair complexion to its best advantage. It now appeared almost translucent and was often remarked upon with envy by women her age who had basked in the sun for years and were now paying for their gorgeous tans with lines and wrinkles.
Eyeglasses had been replaced by contacts.
Years in braces had left her with a perfect smile. The beanstalk body had finally sprouted and filled out.
She was still strikingly slender, but it was a fashionable, not an unfortunate, slimness. The curves beneath her expensive and chic clothing weren't abundant, but they were detectable.
Marcie Johns had come a long way from the awkward bookworm all the other kids had called Goosey.
While the popular girls in her class had gone out for cheerleader and drum majorette, she had been captain of the debate team and president of the Latin club.
Her more curvaceous classmates had been crowned Homecoming Queen and Valentine Sweetheart; she had received awards for outstanding scholastic achievements. Her parents had told her that those were much more important than winning popularity contests, but Marcie was smart enough to know better.
She would have traded all her certificates of merit for one rhinestone-studded tiara and a crowning kiss from the president of the class,
Chase Tyler. Few realized that their class valedictorian pined for anything other than scholastic recognition. Indeed, who would have even thought about it? Goosey was Goosey, and no one had ever given her a second thought beyond how smart she was.
Chase did now, however. Summing up her appearance, he said, "Somehow the name Goosey doesn't fit a well-put-together lady like you."
"Thank you."
"You're welcome. Now, as I was saying—"
"You were brushing me off."
Chase raked his hand through his unruly hair. "It's not like I don't appreciate all you've done, Marcie. I do."
"It's just that you want to be left alone."
"That's right."
"To wallow in your misery."
"Right again. Now, unless you're prepared to stand there while I come out of this bed with nothing more on than a bandage around my ribs, I suggest you say your farewells and leave."
"You can't be serious about leaving the hospital."
"I am."
"But the doctor hasn't even seen you this morning."
"I don't need him to tell me that I've got a few cracked ribs. Nothing a day or two in bed won't cure. I'd rather pass the time somewhere else, someplace where whiskey isn't so scarce."
He struggled into a sitting position. The pain took his breath. Tears sprang to his eyes.
He made a terrible, teeth-gnashing face until the worst of it subsided.
"How are you going to get to this 'place'?" she asked. "You can't drive in your condition."
"I'll manage."
"And probably kill yourself in the process."
He swiveled his head around and speared her with his eyes. "Maybe I should take a safe-driving lesson from you."
He couldn't have done or said anything that would hurt her more. She almost bent double against the assault of his harsh words. The blood drained from her head so quickly, she felt faint.
The second the words were out of Chase's mouth, his head dropped forward until his bruised chin rested on his chest. He muttered a litany of expletives. Beyond that, the silence in the room was thick enough to cut with a knife.
At last he raised his head. "I'm sorry,
Marcie."
She was nervously clasping and unclasping her hands as she stared sightlessly into near space. "I wondered if you blamed me for the accident."
"I don't. I swear I don't."
"Maybe not consciously. But deep down—"
"Not at all. It was a thoughtless, stupid
thing to say. I told you I'd make an enemy of you. I can't…" He raised his hands helplessly.
"Sometimes I get so furious about it, I
turn nasty and victimize whoever happens to be around me at the time. That's why I'm not very good company. That's why I just want to be left alone."
His emotional pain was so starkly evident, it was easy to forgive him for lashing out at her. He was like a wounded, cornered animal that wouldn't allow anyone to get close enough to help him. For the two years since Tanya's death he had been licking his wounds. They hadn't healed yet. Left alone they never would.
They would only fester and become worse.
Chase was no longer capable of helping himself.
"Do you insist on leaving this hospital?"
"Yes," he said. "If I have to crawl out."
"Then let me drive you home. To Milton
Point."
"Forget it."
"Be reasonable, Chase. Where will you go?
If you were staying with that clown and he's left for Canada, where will you go?"
"There are plenty of other rodeo folks I can stay with."
"Who might or might not take proper care of you." She moved closer and laid her hand on his bare shoulder. "Chase, let me drive you to Milton Point."
Jaw stubbornly set, he said, "I don't want to go home."
What he didn't know was that Marcie could be as stubborn as he. Her personality had an inflexible streak that few ever saw because she only exercised it when given no alternative.
"Then I'll call Lucky and discuss with him what I should do with you."
"The hell you will," he roared. He came off the bed, reeling from his weakened condition when his feet hit the floor. "Leave my family out of this. I'll manage just fine by myself."
"Oh, sure. You can barely stand up!"
Gritting his teeth in frustration and pain, he said, "Please go away and leave me alone."
Marcie drew herself up to her full height. "I
didn't want to bring up such a delicate subject,