A Texas Thanksgiving. Margaret Daley
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the scope of human tragedy.
And human joy.
Life and death, at its elemental core.
“Daddy, we cleaned out the stall. Can we ride the horse now?” Paige skidded to a stop in front of him with Ellie right behind her.
“Let me finish putting fresh hay in the last one, then I’ll saddle Bessie for y’all to ride.”
“We’re really gonna get to ride a horse?” Ellie asked his daughter as they strolled to the mare’s stall.
Evan stared at the darkening sky beyond the opened barn doors, then checked his watch. Ellie’s mother was late. Thirty minutes, which for some reason surprised him. He figured her to be someone who would be on time. He shrugged and loaded his pitchfork with more hay. He’d been wrong before about a person—disastrously so.
The strains of “The Battle Hymn of the Republic” blasted from his jean pocket. He laid the tool against the wheelbarrow and retrieved his cell phone.
“Paterson here.”
“Evan, this is Julia.” Her voice was quivering.
His military training taking over, he straightened, checking to see where the girls were. After he found them, he continued to sweep the area. “What’s wrong?”
“I’m in a ditch along Johnson Road, I’m guessing not too far from your ranch.”
“Are you hurt?”
“No—at least I don’t think so. Just shook up.”
“What happened?” His grip on the phone strengthened about the bit of plastic while his gaze fastened onto the two girls at the other end of the barn—safely out of earshot.
“I had a blowout. My tire is shredded. I lost control and went into the ditch.” Exasperation leaked into her voice. “I don’t have roadside assistance. Do you know a good wrecker service?”
“Yes, I have a friend who works on cars and has a gas station. I’ll call him and get him out there, then come pick you up.”
“You don’t—”
“What are you going to do? Walk here after he takes your car away? We’ll be out to get you in a few minutes. Bye.”
He cut the call off and then punched in Carl’s number. When his ex-army buddy came on the line, Evan told him about the situation and that he would meet him out on Johnson Road.
Three minutes later Evan started his truck with both girls sitting in the front with him. Dark shadows crept across the flat terrain.
Ellie squirmed around to peer up into his face. “Are you sure Mommy is okay?”
He gave her a grin and what he hoped was a reassuring look. “That’s what she told me. We’ll pick her up and bring her back here, then you can check for yourself.”
“My mommy is the bravest person I know. She banged her head last month and didn’t cry at all.”
“My daddy doesn’t cry. He fell off a new horse last week and got right back up on him.”
“My mommy…”
Trying desperately to contain his laughter, Evan turned onto the highway and tuned out the two dueling girls. There was no way he would get into the middle of that.
Almost a mile from the ranch’s entrance, Evan spied Julia and her Mustang off his side of the road in a three-foot ditch, which meant she’d gone across the lane of oncoming traffic when she’d lost control. She could have been in a bad wreck if anyone else had been on the road. The thought churned his stomach.
Ellie pointed. “There’s Mommy. She’s waving at us.”
“I don’t see the front of the car.” Paige sat forward as much as her seat belt would allow.
He parked as far off the road as he could near the back end of the Mustang. “You two stay in here.”
“But, Daddy—”
“Paige, no argument. It’s getting dark and it’s not safe being out on the highway.” The second he’d said that he’d realized his mistake.
“Mommy’s not safe?” Ellie asked, her eyes showing worry.
“Yes, she is, but I know how little girls can get. I’m switching on my blinkers.” He didn’t want the two of them worrying anymore. “That will alert anyone that there’s a stalled car on the side of the road.”
As he climbed from the cab, Paige said, “Be careful, Daddy.”
Ever since his wife had walked out on his marriage on Thanksgiving Day two years ago, Paige got scared easily, even a couple of times to the point where she’d become hysterical. He’d left the army earlier than he’d intended to raise his daughter, but her fears only escalated after Diane died of a drug overdose.
Evan strode to Julia, first assessing her, then the Mustang. Even in the dim light of dusk, he could tell that the tires were on their last thousand miles, if that. He motioned toward the nearest one. “Were you going to drive until there was no rubber left?”
She pulled herself up tall. “I beg your pardon.”
“Those aren’t even good for a tire swing.”
“I was going to get a new set in November right before winter weather sets in.”
He tipped back his hat, feeling the waves of indignation coming off her. “We don’t have that much winter weather—not like Chicago. November starts next week. You need to have Carl change all of them or you’ll have another blowout.”
Her chin lifted. “Just as soon as I get the money to pay for them.”
If he wasn’t mistaken, a northern chill had just blasted past him. “And while we’re at it, I would suggest getting a road-assistance service. There can be some pretty lonely stretches of highway outside of town. And since you are single—”
“I also plan on doing that,” Julia cut in, “when I can swing the money, but so you won’t worry about me, I don’t plan on driving outside of town.”
“You did tonight.” Evan removed his hat and slapped it against his leg.
“Point taken.” She swung around toward the sound of a vehicle approaching. “Oh, good, the tow truck.”
“After he hooks up the car, I’ll take you back to the ranch.”
“He can’t fix the tire after he pulls my Mustang from the ditch? I have a spare in the trunk.”
Evan chuckled and set his hat back on his head. “Ma’am, there’s a possibility there are more things wrong than just a flat tire.”
“What do you mean?”
“Carl will need to get it up on a rack and check the underside of your pretty little Mustang. I know because I once drove into a ditch and had three thousand dollars’ worth of damage, mostly not visible.”
“Oh.”
Her crestfallen expression tugged at him. From what she’d said about having to save money for the tires, he was ninety-nine percent sure she didn’t have a lot of cash sitting around for big emergencies. “You do have car insurance?”
“Of course.” Offense marked her voice and her face now. “But I have a thousand-dollar deductible.”
Carl limped toward them, wearing his usual Dallas Cowboys’ cap, jeans and T-shirt. “Whatcha got here, Paterson?”
“At the best a ruined tire.” Evan waved his hand toward the car. “At the worst major undercarriage damage.”
Carl studied the Mustang for a long moment, removing his ball cap and scratching his head. “I’ll take her down to the station and have a look. I’ll