Miracle at Colts Run Cross. Joanna Wayne

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      She heard Nick’s garbled protest in the background.

      “Wait. He’s insisting I hand him the phone.”

      Nice of him to bother.

      “Becky.”

      Her name was slurred—no doubt from pain meds. Derrick had joined them as well now, and both boys had climbed into their twin beds.

      “The boys are worried about you.”

      “Yeah. I knew they would be. I was just waiting to call until I was thinking and talking a bit straighter. Were they watching the game?”

      “They always watch your games, Nick.”

      “Good boys. I miss them.”

      So he always said, but she wasn’t going there with him right now. “How are you?”

      “I have the feeling back in my arms and legs. They burned like they were on fire for a bit, but they’re better now. The E.R. doc said that was the neurons firing back up so I figure that’s a good sign.”

      “Is there a diagnosis?”

      “They think I have a spinal cord contusion. They make it sound serious, but you know doctors. They like complications and two-dollar terms no one else can understand. I’ll be fine.”

      He didn’t sound it. He was talking so slowly she could have read the newspaper between sentences. “Do you feel like saying good-night to David and Derrick?”

      “Sure. Put them on. I need some cheering up.”

      That’s what she thought Brianna was for. She put the boys on speakerphone so they could both talk at once. Nick made light of the injury, like she’d known he would, and started joking with the boys as if this was just a regular Sunday night post-game chat.

      He loved his sons. He even loved her in his own way. It just wasn’t enough. She backed from the room as an ache the size of Texas settled in her heart.

      MORNING CAME early at Jack’s Bluff Ranch, and the sun was still below the horizon when Becky climbed from her bed. She’d had very little sleep, and her emotions were running on empty. Still she managed a smile as she padded into her sons’ room to get them up and ready for school.

      “Okay, sleepyheads, time to rock and roll.”

      “Already?” Derrick groaned and buried his head in his pillow.

      David rubbed his eyes with his fists and yawned widely as he kicked off his covers. “How come you always say time to rock and roll when we’re just going to school?”

      “Tradition. That’s what your grandma used to say to me.”

      “Grandma said that?”

      “Yes, she did. “Now up and at ’em. She said that, too. And wear something warm. It’s about twenty degrees colder than yesterday.”

      “I wish it would snow,” Derrick said as he rummaged through the top drawer of his chest and came up with a red-and-white-striped rugby shirt.

      “It never snows in Colts Run Cross,” David said.

      “Not never, but rarely,” Becky agreed. But a cold front did occasionally reach this far south. Today the high would only be in the mid-forties with a chance of thundershowers.

      “Have you talked to Daddy this morning?” Derrick asked.

      “No, and I don’t think we should bother him with phone calls this early. Now get dressed, and I’ll see you at breakfast.”

      Juanita was already at work in the kitchen and had been for over a half hour. Becky had heard the family cook drive up. She’d heard every sound since about 3:00 a.m. when she’d woken to a ridiculous nightmare about Nick’s getting hit so hard his helmet had flown off—with his head inside it.

      Crazy, but anxiety had always sabotaged her dreams with weird and frightening images. Some people smoked cigarettes or drank or got hives when they were worried. She had nightmares. Over the last ten years, Nick had starred in about ninety-nine percent of them.

      Juanita was sliding thick slices of bacon into a large skillet when Becky strode into the kitchen in her pink sweats and fuzzy slippers and poured herself a bracing cup of hot coffee.

      The usually jovial Juanita stopped the task and stared soulfully at Becky. “I’m sorry to hear about Nick.”

      “Thanks.” She hoped she would let it go at that.

      “I brought the newspaper in. Nick’s picture is on the front page.”

      The front page and no doubt all the morning newscasts, as well. Nick would be the main topic of conversation at half the breakfast tables in Texas this morning.

      “The article said he may be out for the rest of the season,” Juanita said.

      “The rest of the season could be only a game or two depending on whether or not Dallas wins its play-off games, but I don’t think anyone knows how long Nick will be on injured reserve.”

      “I’m sure the boys are upset.”

      “They talked to him last night, and he assured them he was fine. So I’d appreciate if you didn’t mention the article in the paper. They need to go to school and concentrate on their studies.”

      “Kids at school will talk,” Juanita said. “Maybe it would be best if you show them the article and prepare them.”

      Becky sighed. “You’re right. I should have thought of that myself.”

      Juanita had been with them so long that she seemed like an extension of the family. She fit right in with the Collingsworth clan, none of whom had ever strayed far from Colts Run Cross.

      And if Juanita had been helpful before, she’d been a godsend since Becky’s mother, Lenora, had started filling in as CEO for Becky’s grandfather, Jeremiah, after his stroke. Thankfully he was back in the office a few days a week now, and Lenora was completing some projects she’d started and easing her way out of the job that would eventually go to Langston. As Jeremiah said, he had oil in his blood.

      Jack’s Bluff was the second largest ranch in Texas. Becky’s brothers Bart and Matt managed the ranch, and both had their own houses on the spread where they lived with their wives.

      Her youngest brother, Zach, had recently surprised them all by falling madly in love with a new neighbor, marrying and also taking his first real job. He was now a deputy, in training for the county’s new special crimes unit. He and his wife, Kali, lived on her horse ranch.

      And though her oldest brother Langston lived with his family in Houston, close to Collingsworth Oil where he served as president for the company, he had a weekend cabin on the ranch.

      Her younger sister, Jaime, who’d never married or apparently given any thought to settling down or taking a serious job, lived in the big house with Becky and the boys, along with Becky’s mother, Lenora, and СКАЧАТЬ