Chapter Twenty-Three
Buddy yanked the door open and dragged Joe inside. “God, I’m glad you’re here. You have to do something. I can’t stand this much longer.”
“Where is he?”
“Same place he’s spent every spare minute since Abby left. Either the bedroom, the nursery or down at the creek.”
“Fishing? That’s a good sign.”
Buddy shook his head. “He doesn’t fish. Hasn’t touched the gear in a month. And he’s barely eating enough to stay alive.”
“What about the ranch?”
“He’s doing what has to be done, but not much more. It’s like he just doesn’t care about anything. We’ve got to snap him out of it. I don’t ever want to go through anything like that first week again. He was practically breaking down doors all over town trying to find her.”
Joe sighed. “I know. He wouldn’t believe me when I told him she’d left Cooper Creek. But maybe what I’ve got to tell him today will do the trick.”
Buddy perked up. “You talked to Abby?”
“Better than that. I saw her yesterday.”
“She’s okay?”
“She’s fine. I’ll tell you about it later. Right now, I need to talk to Tate.”
“He’s up there today.” Buddy pointed toward the stairs.
Joe took them two at a time, but paused halfway down the hall. The sound of squeaking came from the direction of the nursery and he pushed the door open without knocking.
Tate was sitting in the rocking chair. He didn’t even look up when Joe came in. His gaze was fixed on the scraggly bear in his lap. In spite of obvious efforts to clean it up, it was still a pretty sorry sight. The mud was gone, but its purple fur was matted and clumped together.
Joe leaned against the door frame and crossed his arms, studying his best friend. He’d lost weight, his face all sharp angles and planes now. At least what he could see of it. It looked like he hadn’t shaved in weeks. A heavy beard covered the bottom half of his face. His hair was longer than Joe had ever seen it, curling down over his collar and falling into his eyes in the front.
“Hoss, you are about the sorriest sight I ever did see. You in the running for the world’s ugliest hermit?”
Tate’s gaze shifted to him then back down to the bear. “What are you doing here? If Buddy called you, you can just turn around and leave.”
Joe pushed away from the door. “Sure. I thought you might be interested to hear some news about Abby, but I guess I was wrong. See you later.”
“Wait!” Tate lurched to feet. “You talked to her? Where is she? Is she okay?”
Joe held up one hand. “Slow down. Why don’t we go downstairs and get a cup of coffee and I’ll tell you everything.”
“You’ll tell me now, damn it.”
“Fine.” He walked to the window and perched one hip on the sill. “I didn’t just talk to her. I went to visit her.”
Tate’s hands clenched and released the bear spasmodically. “How does she look? Is she eating? Is the baby okay?”
“She looked great. Gained quite a bit of weight in the last month, so I guess the baby is fine, too.” He looked down at the toe of his boot then back at Tate. “She got her diploma about a week after she left. Made the highest scores of the whole class. Didn’t take her long to find a job after that. She’s working in a little dress shop, practically running the place for the owner.”
“Where is she living?”
“She’s got a small apartment not far from where she works. It’s not real fancy, but it’s kind of cozy.”
Tate took a step toward him, his eyes pleading. “Joe, you have to tell me where she is. I can’t take this anymore.”
“You know I can’t do that. I gave her my word.” He hesitated. “I told her you were looking for her.”
“What did she say?”
Joe shrugged. “Not much. But she misses you. She made me tell her everything that was going on at the ranch. She seems sad, even when she smiles. And she wasn’t real happy to hear about the way you’ve been acting lately.”
“I have to see her.”
“Not right now, you don’t. Have you taken a good look in the mirror lately, Tate? You’d probably give her a heart attack. And knowing Abby, she’ll blame herself. She’s been through enough. Don’t add that to it. Take a little time, get yourself back in some kind of decent shape.”
“What good will that do, when I can’t find her?”
Joe pursed his lips and looked thoughtfully out the window. “Maybe you just haven’t tried hard enough. I suspect if you really started thinking straight, you might just come up with a way to find her.” He stood up and stared at Tate intently. “Not that many small towns around here.”
He headed out the door then paused. “It might interest you to know, Abby mentioned she had a doctor’s appointment tomorrow. Well, I think I’m gonna get that cup of coffee. I’ll be downstairs.”
* * * * *
The doctor. Tate stared at the bear then tossed it onto the rocking chair. Why hadn’t he thought of that before? Joe was right. It was time to get a grip, time to take control of his life. And now he had a place to start. He might even see her tomorrow if he was lucky. But he was going to find Abby if it took another month.
Hope blossomed in his chest as he strode from the room, a plan of action forming in his mind. First a shave and shower, then something to eat. His stomach rumbled at the thought of food and he realized he was starved. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d eaten.
He slammed the bathroom door behind him then stared in shock at his reflection in the mirror. If anything, Joe had understated the way he looked. No wonder Buddy had been running him nuts. He looked half dead. His eyes were deep pits in his face, the beard only making them worse.
Pulling open a drawer, he took out his shaving equipment and set to work. He couldn’t do much about the weight loss right now, but he could get rid of the beard. Hair fell rapidly into the sink as he started to work with the scissors.
Abby. Excitement surged through him until his hands shook. Mouth dry, heart slamming into his throat, he leaned his forehead against the mirror. He was going to find her, see her again. Touch her, after he’d come so close to giving up hope.
Straightening, he lathered his face and dragged the razor over the stubble. The face that emerged was no longer his. His cheeks were sunken enough to make his chin seem squarer than normal and the cheek bones were more prominent without the extra padding of flesh.
The face looking back at him was his grandfather’s. Younger, maybe, but still the face he remembered. A shiver ran over him. He couldn’t think about it now. He had to concentrate on Abby and the baby.
Stripping, he stepped into the shower and let the water run over him. He scrubbed twice, hard enough that his skin reddened, then stepped out and wrapped a towel around his waist. In a matter of minutes he was dressed and heading for the kitchen.
Buddy was sitting at the kitchen table. As soon as Tate walked in, he ripped a sheet of paper from the pad in front of him and stuck it in his pocket.
Picking up the phone book, he joined Buddy at the table, trying to ignore the way his brother was staring at him. “Where’s Joe?”
“Out back. He’s putting steaks on the grill. Damn, Tate. You look just like Dad.”
Tate studied him. Strange. When he’d looked in the mirror he’d only seen his grandfather. But Buddy saw his father. Maybe the two men were more alike than he’d given them credit for being. A niggle of an idea was trying to work its way though but he shook it off. Right now, he didn’t have time for anything but Abby.
“I’m starved. Go tell Joe to throw on a couple more steaks.”
“Sure.” Buddy grinned.
As soon as the teenager was through the door, Tate pulled the pad of paper across the table. Using the lead of the pencil he’d picked up along with the phone book, he lightly skimmed it across the top sheet. Instantly, the faint outline of an address began to appear. 312 Oak Ridge Court, Apartment 2a. Quickly he tore it off and stuck it in the back of the phone book. Now all he needed was the town.
* * * * *
Tate glanced at the clock on the wall. Ten in the morning and he was getting more frustrated by the minute. As he’d discovered the evening before, by the time he’d tried to call any of the doctor’s offices listed in the book, they had all closed. He’d started again at eight-thirty this morning and he was rapidly running out of options.
He hung the phone up and crossed off another listing. Only two left to go. The phone rang three times before someone answered it, but he was ready.
“Hi. My name is Tate McCullom. My wife, Abby, had an appointment with you today. I have a surprise for her, but I forgot what time her appointment is. Can you check that for me?”
“One moment.”
There was a rustle of paper then the voice came back. “I’m sorry. We don’t have an Abby McCullom scheduled today.”
“Thanks. I must have gotten the day mixed up.” He set the phone back in the cradle and stared at it. There was something wrong with this picture. Think. He had to think.
His gaze scanned the list of numbers he’d already called. Abruptly, he sat up straighter. How was Abby able to afford a doctor? Yes, she might have a job now, but not one that paid enough for medical bills like the ones she was looking at.
He hesitated. Would Abby go to a free clinic feeling like she did about taking charity? It was worth a shot. Flipping the yellow pages to the section on clinics, his finger marked the first number while he dialed.
When a brisk feminine voice answered he repeated his speech then waited, stomach tied into a knot of nerves.
“Mr. McCullom?”
“Yes?” His sweat-slick hand tightened on the receiver.
“I’m sorry, but you just missed her. Her appointment was at eight this morning. She’s been gone about fifteen minutes.”
“Thank you.” Weakness washed over him as he dropped the phone in the cradle. Layton. All this time she’d been in Layton, only an hour and a half away.
So now he knew. The only problem was what to do about it. Did he dare just go over there and confront her? Insist she come back home where she belonged? What if she said no, refused to even speak to him?
Fear wiggled its way up his spine, leaving him trembling in reaction. After what he’d put her through, he wouldn’t blame her if she called the police and had him thrown out. It wasn’t a chance he was sure he could take. One thing had become glaringly clear to him. He couldn’t live without her. Didn’t even want to try.
Slowly, a plan of action began to form in his mind. One that he could implement today. He stood up so fast the chair shot across the room. There was a lot to do if he was going be ready by the time Abby got off work.
He scrawled a quick note to Buddy, then grabbed his hat and headed for the truck.
* * * * *
Abby adjusted the strap of her purse over her shoulder, then flicked the lights out in the store. The August heat hit her full force as she turned to lock up. She could practically feel her clothes and hair wilting as a thin film of sweat covered her. Thank heavens there were plenty of trees lining the way home. Even a short walk in this heat could incapacitate someone.
She paused to study the new display in the store window, then nodded. It looked good. And she’d done it all herself. She tilted her head to one side, her gaze running over the mannequin. On second thought, maybe the red and gold scarf would look better with the outfit.
The keys were already back in her hand when she realized what she was doing. She was putting off going back to the apartment. Again. It was an hour past her normal quitting time and still she was dawdling.
She knew what the problem was. Had known all along. The small apartment was empty. As empty as her life had been before Tate. Even the thought of him stirred the ever-present ache into a stab of agony.
Resolutely, she pushed the pain back down, her lips firming with determination. Nothing was like it had been before Tate, especially not her. Her apartment was like a mansion compared to the shack she’d lived in before and her refrigerator was full of food. She had a good job, one that allowed her to take care of herself. Her back straightened and her chin lifted. She wasn’t the town whore anymore. She was Abby McCullom, high school graduate and soon-to-be mother. She had a right to be proud.
“Abby!”
She glanced around at the sound of her name and smiled at the tiny old man waving from across the street. “Hello, Mr. Harmon. How are you this evening?”
“Burning up,” he called back. “My air conditioning went out again today. Looks like I’m going to have to spring for a new unit after all.”
“Maybe you can patch it together enough to last until it cools off some.”
“Could be. I wanted to let you know that special caffeine-free tea you wanted came in today.”
“Great!” She crossed the street and followed him into the store. He reached under the counter and brought out a box.
“Green tea, huh? Don’t believe I’ve ever had anyone ask for it until you did.”
“It’s supposed to be good for you.” She smiled at him.
“I’ll take your word for it. Got a few more boxes of it here when you’re ready for them.”
“Thank you.” She pulled out a few bills and handed them to him, waiting while he made change. “Could you give me a few dollars’ worth of quarters, Mr. Harmon?”
“I think I can spare them.” He counted the money out into her hand. “Have a good evening, Abby.”
“You, too.” She pocketed the money on her way out the door. Tomorrow she was going to call Tate. It wasn’t going to be easy hearing his voice, but she had to do it. The baby was as much his as it was hers and, in spite of everything, she knew he loved it. He had a right to know what was going on.
She shot a glance at the pay phone outside Mr. Harmon’s store, one hand resting on the prominent mound of her stomach. Maybe she should do it now and get it over with. Her steps hesitated then picked up again. No, tomorrow was soon enough. Mrs. Cooper ran the store on Saturday’s so she’d have more time, wouldn’t have to rush through the call. She suspected that Tate was going to have a lot of questions. Questions she wasn’t sure she had the answers to yet.
Joe had told her that Tate wasn’t doing so great since she’d left, but she wasn’t sure she believed him. Tate wasn’t the type to fall apart. Especially not over a woman he’d been forced to marry in the first place. But the baby was a different story. It must have really hurt him, not knowing if he’d ever see his child.
Guilt clenched her stomach into a knot. She hadn’t meant to put him through that. He must know she’d never try to keep him away from their child.
Her reverie was broken when a large yellow dog bounded from between two houses, barking furiously in his pursuit of a gray cat.
“Digger!”
At her voice, the dog came to a sliding stop, an expression of canine chagrin on his furry face. Tail waving, he whined and slunk to her side.
“You know better than to chase Vincent, now don’t you?” She ruffled his furry ears. “Remember what happened to your nose the last time you caught up with him?” She gave the dog a final pat. “Go find Zeke, Digger.” He spun and ran back in the direction he’d come from, apparently going to find his young master.
She watched him go, a sigh on her lips. There was so much she missed. Buddy and Dog. Her garden. The horses. Even the chickens. But most of all, she missed Tate. Missed seeing him, talking to him, being held in his strong arms. There wasn’t a night that went by when she didn’t dream he was there with her. It made waking up alone a miserable experience and, more than once, her face had been wet with the tears she wouldn’t allow herself to shed during the day.
Stooping carefully to move a toy some child had left on her sidewalk, she fished in her purse for her keys. As soon as she pushed the door open a blast of cold air hit her and she frowned. She was positive she’d turned the air conditioner up this morning, just as she always did. It cost too much to run it when no one was there.
She stepped inside and closed the door behind her then came to an abrupt halt. A huge purple bear sat on her coffee table, a vase of yellow roses in his arms, their sweet aroma permeating the whole apartment. The box of tea slipped from her numb fingers and landed on the floor with a soft thunk.
“I hope you like them.” The voice, low and male, came from her right and she spun to face him, shivers of excitement shaking her right down to her toes.
“Tate.”