Tomas: Cowboy Homecoming Page 5

  A collective “oh” echoed around the dusty barn, and Tuf noticed Royce and Grace had taken seats on bales of alfalfa, listening intently.

  “I was stunned but glad he was alive. I figured he wanted to thank me for carrying him out of there. I was mistaken. The doctor advised me to be prepared for the worst. But nothing could have prepared me for the sight of Michael. He was bandaged from head to toe. Tubes seemed to be attached to every part of his body. The gunfire had blown off the left side of his face. They’d amputated his left leg and he was in danger of losing his left arm. But Michael was refusing any more surgeries. He wanted to die.”

  He gulped a breath. “I stood there staring at his one good eye. The right side of his face and mouth were the only parts of him that weren’t bandaged. A suffocating feeling came over me, and I didn’t know what to say or what to do. Michael had plenty to say, though. ‘Why couldn’t you have left me there? Why did you have to play the hero and come back for me?’ His strained voice demanded an answer. Again, I didn’t know what to say. ‘I hate you,’ he screamed at me. ‘I’d rather be dead. I have no life like this. Why did you have to save me?’

  “I couldn’t answer so I walked out. The doctor informed me that Michael was refusing to see his parents, his wife and their three-month-old son. I was the only one he’d asked to see. The doctor added that I was Michael’s only hope. I was overwhelmed by the responsibility, and I wanted to leave that hospital and never look back. But I found I couldn’t. All the years of Mom and Dad preaching morals, values and honor must have reached me. I went back into that room prepared for battle.

  “As soon as I entered, Michael screamed, ‘Get out.’ I told him no. He’d asked for me and I wasn’t leaving. He looked at the ceiling and refused to speak. I searched my brain for something to say, something to get his attention. I just started talking off the top of my head, telling him the cowboys around the rodeo circuit have a saying—when things get rough, ‘cowboy up.’ I reminded him it was time to ‘marine up,’ to fight for the most precious thing he had—his life. He kept staring at the ceiling, and I kept talking, saying stuff like cowboys and marines don’t give up and if he did, he wasn’t the man I thought he was.”

  Tuf felt as though he was back in that hospital room. He could smell the antiseptic, hear the beep of the heart monitor. He swallowed hard.

  “Out of the blue Michael asked if cowboys died with their boots on. ‘Hell, yes,’ I said, ‘and it’s even better to die in the arms of a beautiful woman.’ He seemed to relax and I could swear he was smiling. I felt I was getting through to him so I kept pressuring him, telling him how much he needed the surgeries. Finally, I asked in a loud voice, ‘Marine, what’s your answer?’

  “He didn’t say anything for a long time and then he asked if I would stay with him. That threw me. I reminded him that his wife and parents were waiting. He said he didn’t want them to see him like he was. I heard the pain in his voice and I found myself agreeing to stay. I told the doctor the surgeries were a go and then I called Mom to tell her I couldn’t come home, but I would as soon as I could. I gave her my cell number in case she needed to get in touch with me.”

  Nobody said a word and Tuf forced himself to finish the story. “After the first surgery, I figured I’d leave, but it took six surgeries to repair his arm. Janet, Michael’s wife, haunted the lobby, but Michael refused to see her. I felt sorry for her and I didn’t know how to get through to Michael. I slept on a bed in his room, and every night I pushed him about seeing his wife. He finally admitted his fears about his face. A part of his jaw and cheekbone were missing as was his eye. He was going to look different and he wasn’t sure his wife could take that. In a way I understood his fears, and I stayed as the doctors started reconstructive surgery to his face. Days turned into weeks, weeks into months. Thanksgiving and Christmas came, and I sat through every painstaking surgery praying and hoping that Michael was going to find the strength to live again.”

  He drew in deeply. “After calling Mom, I’m sorry I never called home again. I felt guilty and conflicted about Michael. I kept wondering if I’d done him any favors by saving his life. I kept thinking it was my fault he was going through so much pain. If I hadn’t played the hero, like he’d said, he wouldn’t be suffering, but I could never make myself believe that. All I knew was I had to stay there to help him heal. I had to really save him this time. If I had spoken to anyone here and heard of Mom’s health scare or the ranch’s financial situation, I wouldn’t have been able to do that because I wanted to come home so badly.”

  “Oh, my poor sweet son.” His mother rushed to him and wrapped her arms around him. He clung to her because his legs felt weak. “Don’t you apologize for a thing.”

  “Did Michael recover?” Ace asked in a low voice.

  “Yes. It was difficult, but the reconstructive surgeries to his face were amazing. They rebuilt his cheekbone and jawbone, and he received a new artificial hand-painted eye. It looked real. There were scars, but they were hardly noticeable. This was when I told Michael it was time to see his wife. He didn’t know it, but I’d been sending her pictures of Michael from my phone when he wasn’t looking. She needed to see that he was alive and healing. I told him if he didn’t see her, I was leaving. He sat in a chair stone-faced and I headed for the door.”

  His mom patted his chest. “He saw her?”

  “Not until I forced him,” he replied. “Before I could reach the door, he reminded me I’d told him that cowboys live by a code of honor and they always keep their word. He added I wasn’t a true cowboy if I left. He had me and it made me mad. I pulled out my phone and informed him that this is how a cowboy would handle the situation. I sent a text to Janet to come to the room. Now Michael was angry, but I told him not to worry. I had his back.

  “It was a Saturday, and Michael’s parents had brought his son to visit Janet. When she entered the room, she held the boy by the hand. He was over a year old now and walking. He tottered over to Michael, who was sitting in a chair, and said ‘Da-da.’ A tear slipped from Michael’s right eye and I quietly left the room. The counselor wanted to see me so I went to his office. He said it was time to wean Michael away from me. I was all for that. I never slept in Michael’s room again. Janet finally moved in and I slept down the hall.

  “The counselor advised me to do something I enjoyed away from the hospital. For me that’s rodeoing, but I didn’t have a way to get around so I bought a truck, got my rodeo card and signed up to ride. When Michael’s parents came to see him, I thought I’d go home for a visit. I got as far as Wyoming, and I saw Beau at a rodeo and knew once I reached Thunder Ranch, I’d never be able to leave. I’d given Michael my word, so I headed back to Maryland. I’m sorry, Beau. I couldn’t talk about it at the time.”

  “Don’t worry,” Beau said. “I was just concerned. You weren’t yourself.”

  “He’s home now.” His mom patted his chest again. “That’s what matters.”

  “As soon as Michael walked out of that hospital on his prosthetic leg with his wife and parents by his side, I headed for Montana.” He reached into his pocket. “My unit was awarded the Bronze Star for bravery in protecting Michael. And Michael received the Silver Star for bravery in saving the little girl.” He opened his hand to reveal a Silver Star encased in a clear plastic sheath. “I was awarded the Silver Star as well for covering Michael’s body and for carrying him out of there.” He held it out to his mother. “I want you to have it.”

  “No, no.” She shook her head. “You keep it. You earned it, my son. You’re the hero.”

  Suddenly, there was that silence he dreaded. He glanced at their familiar faces and saw the look he dreaded, too—hero worship. He shoved the medal into his pocket and took a step backward. “I’m not a hero. Michael is. I did what I was trained to do. Anyone here would have done the same thing. Any marine in my unit would have done the same thing.”

  Uncle Josh put his arm around Tuf’s shoulders. “But no one in your unit covere
d Michael’s body. No one in your unit ran back for him. They were running for the chopper and safety. You did that. Why is hero so hard for you to accept?”

  “Because you’re looking at me different. I’m not different. I’m still the annoying younger brother.”

  Ace approached him on the left side. “Yep, you’re still that annoying kid who had the nerve to wear my best boots to a rodeo, like I wouldn’t see the mud and the scuffs. But you’ll forgive me if I see a man where a boy used to stand.”

  “Yeah.” Colt moved closer.

  Dinah, Beau and Duke echoed the sentiment.

  Some of the tension left him. “I know none of you understood my reasons for joining the marines, but when Dad died, I lost my love of rodeo. It wasn’t the same without him there. I was always in the shadows of my brothers and cousins. I had to get away to find my own niche in life. I just never planned on being away so long.” He sucked air into his starved lungs. He never talked this much. Ever. “I’m home now and I’m ready to start rodeoing again to help out.” He looked at Ace. “Just how bad are the finances?”

  After a round of hugs and shaking hands, he, Ace and their mom walked to the office. For the next two hours, they went over the books with Leah. They’d leased three thousand acres to a man from Texas who was always late with the lease money. That put a strain on making the payment on a three-hundred-thousand-dollar note at the bank. Seemed the economy, a flood and bad decisions made by their father had left the ranch deep in debt.

  Tuf rose from his chair. “I’ll go to the house and get my checkbook. I have some money in my account, and I’ll sign it over to the ranch.”

  “Absolutely not,” his mom said.

  “Sorry, Mom, it’s my money and I can do what I want with it and I can sell my truck.”

  “Slow down,” Ace advised. “You’re going to need a dependable truck if you start rodeoing.”

  “Yeah. I hadn’t thought of that.”

  Ace patted his back. “I’m sorry I was short with you earlier.”

  “Come on, Ace, don’t do that. Don’t treat me with kid gloves. You’ve never done that before.”

  Ace nodded. “Okay, then get your ass to rodeoing and see how much money you can win.”

  “That I can do.”

  “But I want you to know I’m proud of what you did for Michael. Dad would be, too.”

  “Thank you.” Emotions clogged his throat for a second, and he wondered why it had been so hard to open up and share his experience with his family. In the end it had been cathartic.

  His family might look at him differently, but he knew they would never treat him differently.

  That he could handle.

  Chapter Five

  Most of January Tuf busied himself learning the rodeo contracting business. Leah had a huge whiteboard in the office listing rodeos and horses and bulls to be delivered to said rodeos. He didn’t see Midnight’s name on the board. His mom hadn’t made her decision yet.

  “Tuf Hart, get away from my board,” Leah said, walking into the office.

  “Yes, ma’am.” He grinned. If anyone got too close to that board, Leah was on the alert. She didn’t want anyone messing with it. She was organized and thorough.

  Since Uncle Josh wanted to spend more time with his wife, Tuf took over a lot of his chores, like taking care of the cows, but Ace planned to hire another hand when Tuf hit the rodeo circuit. Colt and Beau came in, and the three of them sat at the computer picking rodeos they were going to participate in and coordinating many events with the delivery of Hart animals to the rodeo.

  “I’ll participate some,” Colt said, “but I got a kid and two stepkids, not to mention a wife I’m not getting far from.”

  “Thank you, honey,” Leah said from her desk, not even raising her head.

  Beau leaned back in his chair. “Sierra and I talked, and I’m going to give it my all this one last year.”

  Tuf knew Beau was worried about not being home for Sierra. She had a genetic eye disorder and would eventually go blind, but she was very independent and intended to stay that way.

  “You and me, huh?” Tuf asked.

  Beau thought for a moment. “Sierra’s my top priority, but I’ll stick with you as long as I can.”

  “What’s your goal, Tuf?” Colt asked.

  The answer was easy. “To make as much money as I can.”

  “How about the nationals in Vegas?” Colt pressed.

  Tuf shrugged. “I’m a little rusty. We’ll see how the year goes.” Tuf leaned forward. “Can we use your Airstream trailer if we need it?”

  “Sure.”

  “We’re set, then.” He slapped Beau on the back. “I run at five in the morning. Want to join me?”

  Beau frowned. “Are you crazy? At five in the morning, I’ll be wrapped around my wife.”

  “Wimp.” Tuf laughed as he left the office.

  * * *

  AT FIVE THE NEXT MORNING, he got up and did his squats and stretches and then dressed in heavy sweats, sneakers, gloves and a wool cap. The temperature was in the thirties, but it wasn’t snowing. To combat the darkness, he had reflectors on his jacket and sneakers. He planned to stay physically fit to compete. The cool morning air burned his lungs. Yet there was something uplifting about running when the world was asleep. An occasional truck sound and a coyote yapping accompanied him.

  When he reached Roundup, the sun burst through the clouds, bathing the town in a misty yellow glow. He stopped at the sheriff’s office to take a breather and had a cup of coffee with Duke, who had night duty.

  “I—I don’t know what to say to you,” Duke mumbled, sitting at his desk. “I’m blown away by what you did in the Marine Corps.”

  “Seems like it happened to another person.” It was always easy to talk to his quiet cousin. “I’m glad to put it behind me.”

  “Do you think about it much?”

  “I try not to.” He took a swig of the bitter coffee. He thought about it all the time, but no one needed to know that. And his greatest fear was sleep. That’s when the nightmares came.

  “If you need to talk, I work a lot of nights.”

  “How does Angie feel about that?”

  “She’s the best.”

  “Mmm.” Tuf took another swig and got to his feet. “Thanks.” He raised a hand in farewell. “See you later.”

  He ran toward Thunder Road and thought how nice it was that Duke had found the perfect partner, his soul mate. Ace, Colt, Beau and Dinah had also found their other half. He wasn’t sure that was ever going to happen for him. It would have to be someone special—someone who was willing to share his nightmares.

  The wind picked up, but he pressed on, monitoring his breathing, reserving his strength, something he’d learned in the marines. Suddenly he came to a complete stop. Up ahead, Sadie, wrapped up in her purple coat, was walking on the side of the road, head down, and trudging straight for him. Cheyenne was nowhere in sight.

  About four feet from him, Sadie jumped back as she realized someone was standing in front of her.

  He squatted. “Hey, munchkin, where you going?”

  She shrugged.

  “Where’s your mother?”

  She shrugged again.

  “Let’s go find her.” He stood.

  Sadie looked up at him. “Are you a stranger?”

  “No. I’ve known your mother since we were kids.”

  “Oh.”

  He reached for her hand and she didn’t object. Slowly they made their way to the Wright entrance and driveway. Cheyenne ran to meet them, Sammie trailing behind her.

  “Sadie, where have you been?” she asked.

  Sadie shrugged.

  “I’m getting really upset by this behavior, Sadie. I…”

  “I gotta pee, Mommy.” Sammie clutched her crotch. “I gotta pee.”

  “Run to the house,” Cheyenne told her.

  “No. I’m scared.” Sammie started to cry.

  Turmoil etched Cheyenne’s face as she str
uggled with her emotions, her attention split between her daughters.

  “I’ll watch Sadie,” he offered.

  “Thanks. We’ll only be a minute.” She grabbed Sammie’s hand and they ran for the house.

  Tuf still held Sadie’s hand, and he lead her to the steps on the front porch. He sat on the top one and she perched beside him. It was evident that something was bothering Sadie. He didn’t have to be a psychologist to know that. Going on a hunch, he tried to draw her out.

  “When I was six, I ran away from home.”

  “You did?” Today Sadie had the hood over her head and the white fur lining circled her face. She looked like an angel.

  “Yep.”

  “Why?”

  “Well, I have two older brothers, an older sister and two older cousins. I was the youngest and I wasn’t allowed to do what they did. I was too small. I wanted to be big and tough like them. When my dad wouldn’t let me round up cows with them, I decided to leave and find a family without older, bigger kids.”

  The little girl watched him intently. “Where did you go?”

  “I didn’t get too far. My dad drove up and asked if I needed a lift into town. I got in the truck and he drove to Roundup. He asked if I wanted an ice cream at McDonald’s. I said yes, and after that he said he was going to the feed store and I went along. A man with a horse in a trailer drove in behind us.”

  “Was it a pretty horse?”

  “Oh, yes. A chestnut mare and she had a white star on her face. The man said his son went off to college and the horse was for sale. I told my dad we needed to buy it. He said he’d buy the horse if I’d take care of her. I agreed and named her Star. On the way home, Dad told me I wasn’t always going to be little. Someday I’d be as big and tough as my brothers and cousins. I just had to be patient.”