The Widow of Conard County Page 12

  He really wasn’t as bad as he thought, except with the reading. He had a command of simpler words, and little by little he began to write again, a word here and there as a reminder. He liked that he could tuck scraps of paper in his pocket and pull them out when he needed to.

  Diagrams were easiest for him still, but he definitely was beginning to leave that in the past, relying instead on short written steps, carefully numbered. In short, he was learning, and a man who could learn could do a lot.

  His bursts of frustration came less often, although they could still erupt. It remained, however, that she was seeing what she considered to be remarkable improvement.

  Part of her wished she had known him before the injury, but another part of her wisely realized that it was probably better for both of them. He did enough of his own self-comparisons, and when he did she could see the frustration build. She felt a pang every single time she heard him mutter, “I ought to know this!”

  Anger still simmered beneath his surface, too. That concerned her, but she didn’t know how to bring it up, nor was she sure she should. God knew, he had enough to be angry about. As long as he wasn’t directing it at her, it wasn’t her business. Well, except that it bothered her to see him feeling that way so often.

  But she couldn’t imagine a cure, or how even talking about it might be useful. Like all his other problems, this was something he had to find a way to deal with himself.

  Regardless, he’d done numerous things around the house, things she could have done herself if she hadn’t become so disinterested before: a dripping faucet, a running toilet, some splintered baseboard, squeaky doors and one that had needed to be planed. He’d even started working on the porch railing, where some rotting posts needed replacement. That one would take some time as he figured out the steps.

  At that moment, he was busy on the interior of the barn. She didn’t even want to look at that. There’d been stuff in there when she and Chet had bought the place that they’d never touched, some of which she couldn’t even identify, and neither of them had been in any hurry to get rid of things that might eventually turn out to be important.

  Her world was full of questions, she supposed. Questions about herself and Liam. But that was an improvement over the months when she had felt either dead inside or so torn by sorrow, she wanted to be dead.

  She was getting restless, too. She wanted to do things, and this holding pattern they seemed to have settled into didn’t suit her now.

  Making up her mind, she went out to the barn where she found Liam sitting on the fender of an old, rusty tractor, looking around. She was amazed by how much space there seemed to be in here now.

  “Wow, you’ve been busy!”

  He cocked his head to one side. “A barn isn’t much use if there’s no room left to use.”

  “I’m still amazed. We just left it alone. The task overwhelmed me, and I didn’t have a real use for it yet.”

  “Well, you’ll be able to use it now. All it needed was some rearranging.”

  “And organizing. Do you recognize all this stuff? I sure don’t.”

  He half smiled. “Nope. It’d probably be good to get one of your rancher friends out here to look around. You might not even need half of it, or you might find out it’s all important if you get goats and stuff.”

  “That’s why it’s all still here.” A laugh bubbled out of her. “We were complete tyros at this, Liam. Chet and I would have had quite a learning curve.”

  “But you still want to get started.”

  “I do. Listen, I need to get away for a while. I need a change of scenery. Do you want to come to town with me?”

  His hesitation was palpable, but then he slid off the fender. “If you don’t mind waiting while I clean up. I’m grubby.”

  She was relieved that he wanted to go. They’d both been locked up inside themselves for too long, and since he’d withdrawn, it had seemed even worse. As she walked back to the house, she wondered how she had survived all the months when she had chosen utter solitude. Yes, she continued her card games with her friends, and teaching had filled a lot of time, but there had been the other times, the holidays, the summer vacation, when she spent days and days talking to no one.

  That was definitely not healthy, and maybe it had been the worst possible way to deal with her grief. How many invitations had she turned down at Thanksgiving and Christmas, afraid of the pain she’d feel being among happy families, rather than considering it might have taken her out of herself?

  Time for some serious change, she told herself. Heading up the stairs, she changed into fresh jeans and a cotton polo, then listened to the thud of Liam’s feet following her, and the sound of him showering.

  Downstairs again, she waited patiently and drank a glass of milk to tide her over. Time for a change, indeed, but what kind of change? She needed to talk to Ransom about those goats, for one thing. Find out exactly what she’d be getting into. Maybe she ought to call the vet, Mike Windwalker, and find out what kind of animals he knew of that needed a good home. Maybe goats would be too much to start with.

  Seldom had she felt as ignorant as she did right then. A dream, and she hadn’t even bothered to study up on it. And she was a teacher? She laughed at herself.

  But once there had seemed like all the time in the world to get to things. Life had taught her in the harshest of all possible ways that time wasn’t endless, that postponement might well mean never doing something.

  Liam joined her and they headed out to her truck. As soon as they were bouncing down the drive to the county road, he asked, “You thinking any more about those goats?”

  “I’m thinking it’s time I did some research. I’ll talk to Ransom, maybe to the local vet about it. Who knows, they might tell me to start with something else. I don’t want to get in over my head, or take on something that might be more than I can handle when school starts in the fall.”

  “I can help you.”

  Her heart stopped. Was he offering to stay indefinitely? If so, why?

  He must have realized how that might sound, because he abruptly added, “If you want me hanging around. If you don’t want me to leave, I mean.”

  “Why would you want to stay?” Then she wished she could call the words back. “That didn’t come out right. I mean...” What exactly did she mean?

  “It’s okay. I stumble into it all the time. I like it here. I like the work. It’s peaceful. I’m managing to deal with most of it, I think.”

  “You are. Splendidly.”

  “You’re easy to be with, too. I met plenty of people after I got out of rehab who weren’t easy. Didn’t meet anybody I liked, except this one guy.”

  “What happened with him?” Her heart was tripping fast, although she wasn’t sure exactly why.

  “Ah, hell, some guys were giving me crap at a gas station when I stopped to get some food. They know when you’re not right, you know?”

  She hated to hear him say that, hated to hear he felt that way, but bit her tongue to hold the words back and let him talk.

  “It was nothing unusual. Three of them started making fun of me, calling me names. I just wanted to get out of there because I was getting mad.”

  “I imagine so!” And he called that nothing unusual? God, she hated to think what he might have endured on his way to her.

  “No, you can’t imagine what would have happened if I’d lost my temper.” From the corner of her eye, she saw his fists clench on his lap. “There’s muscle memory, you know? Stuff you don’t need your brain to sort out before you act. Plenty of mine is still intact. That’s how I painted the barn. Well, I can still fight. The army taught me good, and lots of experience taught me better. If I’d blown my lid with those guys, I’d probably be on my way to prison.”

  “Oh, Liam.”

  “It is what it is.
I was getting so mad, and I knew I had to just walk away, but they kept following me. I was that close to decking all of them. Hell, I don’t know. I might have killed them. So up walks this guy, a trucker, not real big or beefy, maybe in his fifties. He must have seen the patch on my jacket. Anyways, he tells these guys to cut it out, making sport of a wounded vet is a disgrace, and if they weren’t ashamed enough to stop maybe the cops could help them.”

  “Oh, my God.” The words slipped out under her breath, and her entire chest tightened. “How can people be so vicious?”

  “They just can,” he said. “You know that.”

  She did, but she didn’t like it when she saw it or heard about it.

  “Anyway, I liked that guy. The three idiots backed off and he offered me a lift on his truck if I was headed west. Nice guy.”

  “I would say so.”

  He fell silent, perhaps lost in the memory, and when she glanced his way, she saw his hands were still bunched into fists. Instinctively, she reached out to lay a hand over one of his. She didn’t say anything. She figured words were utterly inadequate right now.

  She felt something like a tremor run through him, then his hand relaxed beneath hers. A minute later and he turned it over to clasp her hand.

  “So what had you been eating? Things from convenience stores?”

  “Pretty much. Or fast food. I could remember how to order a burger and fries.” He surprised her with a chuckle. “Work-arounds, like you said. I learned a few of them on the road.”

  To her, it sounded awful, but when she paused to think about it, she had to admit he’d done very well for someone who couldn’t read, and admitted he had trouble following through without a list of some kind. He’d made it all the way to her front door.

  Then she pondered how it must have impacted him emotionally to be treated that way. No wonder he didn’t seem keen on going to town. When she thought of the courage it must take to risk that kind of scene again, her throat tightened. No wonder he was willing to stay at her ranch. There, at least, he didn’t face scorn.

  A proud warrior brought low in service to his country shouldn’t have to face that kind of treatment. She glanced at him again, pained to think of the transformation he had undergone, the transition he had to make to a new and different life. And how many tens of thousands of others were faced with the same changes, the same problems, the same adaptation? She couldn’t bear to imagine it.

  It was hard enough to see in Liam, and she hadn’t known him before. But she had known Chet, had known how capable and confident he’d been in most things. If he were facing this...

  She thought she had a pretty good idea of how Chet would have felt about it. How hard it would have been for him to adjust to the fact that he could no longer do things he had once taken for granted. She could well imagine his frustration and anger.

  So maybe that was a large part of what Liam was experiencing. Maybe his emotions were driven by a clear-cut delineation, the realization that he was no longer the person he used to be, no longer capable of many things he had once done easily. It would be crazy-making, for her, anyway. The more she thought about it, the more she felt Liam was coping remarkably well.

  “Are you up to lunch in town?” she asked. “If not, I’ll just run in and pick up something to go.”

  “I thought...” He paused. “I seem to remember you saying you needed a change of scenery.”

  “I can get that in a lot of ways. I’m asking if you want to deal with the diner. You don’t have to.”

  “Let’s get lunch,” he said with a decisiveness that pleased her. Evidently, this was one more hurdle he wanted to get over.

  Then he said wryly, “You can always protect me.”

  She almost laughed because of his tone. “Count on it.”

  “That’s the way I had you figured.” Then he sighed. “Let’s see how much of that menu I can figure out. You’ve been working hard enough on my reading.”

  “You’ve been doing all the work.” As she spoke, she realized how true that was. He had been doing all the work. All she’d really done was give him space to figure things out, and a little help from time to time. “I’m not taking any credit for your accomplishments.”

  Whatever his deficits, Liam had enough strength and determination for any ten people. He just didn’t quit. Well, except for the times when he’d walk away because the frustration and anger needed to be contained. But that was a coping skill, too, one that had to be tough.

  Summer had reached its peak, and they hadn’t had any recent rain. The streets were quiet as they entered town, and seemed almost to be baking under the sun. Maybe Maude’s wouldn’t be too busy.

  No sooner had she stepped inside when she realized she might have made a mistake. A few teachers were there, friends of hers, and they immediately waved her over. She looked at Liam and received a brief nod from him. So he was willing to walk into this with her. Three other women must seem like a mob to him.

  “Howdy, stranger,” Alice Shepling said, sliding her chair down to make room for them. Cassie Blair, who had recently married a local rancher after coming here from Tampa, also shifted to make more room. Connie Jepson, the eldest of the group by far, studied Liam speculatively.

  Sharon introduced him as an army buddy of Chet’s, who was helping her out. They welcomed him warmly, and he responded with a nice smile. When the menu came, though, he didn’t try to read it. Instead, he ordered exactly what he’d had last time. Nice cover, she thought.

  “We’re talking about the anti-bullying program Cassie and Linc started last year,” Alice said. “We need to expand it and improve on it. All ideas are welcome.” She smiled at Liam, including him in the discussion.

  “We had a really bad bullying case last year,” Alice went on to explain. “A group of students ganged up on one boy, and by the time we knew what was happening...well, he attempted suicide.”

  Sharon felt Liam tense beside her. Not the best topic of conversation given what he’d experienced. She started trying to imagine reasons to get up and leave, but they’d already ordered. Damn!

  “That’s terrible,” Liam said quietly.

  “It went beyond the student, though,” Connie added. “Cassie here was being bullied, too, by a parent who was mad at her for reporting the problem.”

  “You were bullied?” Liam looked at Cassie.

  “Yes. I suppose that’s exactly what it was. Although he went beyond what most people would think was bullying.”

  “He most certainly did,” Alice said indignantly. “Threats, property damage and finally an attack on you. And let’s not forget that some of the supposed adults around here bullied you a bit, too. It was all very ugly, and could have cost a student his life. Hell, Cassie could have been killed. So we’re determined to start a program as early as kindergarten to teach the children that this kind of behavior shouldn’t be tolerated.”

  “Social pressure does a lot,” Liam offered.

  Sharon was delighted that Liam was joining in and seemed to be relaxing. When Maude slammed his plate down in front of him, he barely twitched a muscle. She was almost ready to jump out of her skin, wondering how this would go.

  “Positive social pressure,” Connie said. “We don’t want it to get negative unless it has to.”

  Liam simply nodded and began to eat. Sharon dug into her salad, mostly listening to the others while remaining alert for any distress from Liam. He seemed okay, though, listening to everyone, nodding from time to time, and when the conversation drifted on to more mundane things, he appeared to enjoy it. He didn’t say much, though. She wondered if he was afraid he’d come out with the wrong thing if he talked too much.

  Just as she thought lunch was winding down, and that they’d skated through a minefield fairly well, Alice asked, “Liam, are you home on leave?”

  Sharon
tensed. She started to answer, but Liam replied first, and bluntly. “Discharged,” he said flatly. “Traumatic brain injury.”

  The gasps came from all around the table. Sharon considered throwing thirty bucks on the table and getting up to leave right then. She looked at her friends, hoping they wouldn’t ask too much more, especially since they’d already gotten more than they’d been expecting. Their faces, at first frozen, began to melt into sympathy.

  “Oh, my God,” said Alice. “I’m so sorry! I can’t imagine the hell that must be for you.”

  “It isn’t exactly fun,” Liam said. Apparently, he was not going to pull any punches, either because he couldn’t or because he didn’t give a damn. “I make do. Sharon’s a big help.”

  “She would be,” Cassie said quietly.

  “Liam’s been a big help to me, too,” Sharon said quickly. “He painted that whole darn barn for me, and has repaired a bunch of other things.”

  Alice spoke dryly. “You mean you’ve finally resurrected the old gray elephant?” She leaned toward Liam. “That place was in terrible shape. In a few more years there’d have been nothing left to paint.”

  Sharon took the opportunity to redirect by making a joke. “Hey, I liked the silvered wood.”

  Alice rolled her eyes. “See? She needs rescuing.” She winked at Liam.

  He surprised Sharon by smiling.

  “It was,” Alice said, turning back to Sharon, “getting to the point where you might have been able to make a small fortune selling old wood for picture frames.”

  That set off a gale of laughter and the tension seeped away.

  Twenty minutes later, farewells were said, and Liam had been invited to come back to lunch next week. “It’s important,” Connie said. “We call ourselves the Lunch Bunch, and Sharon used to come all the time. You make sure she comes again.”

  Then Sharon and Liam were standing alone on the street beside her truck.