Chapter 3
Three
R odney stared at Becky’s ramrod-straight back. Even with her coat on, he could tell that her muscles were stiff and hard and her back so straight like she had a rod jammed up her spine.
She stomped out to the wheelbarrow and grabbed the handles.
Her movements slowed down as she opened the Clydesdale’s stall door, and he thought he heard her ranting under her breath.
When he had thought of all the reunions that he and Becky might have, having it go like this really hadn’t been something he considered.
He had expected to come back with gifts, a ring possibly, and on his knees, with an apology, a huge, massive, oversized apology, one that she couldn’t help but accept, in order to forgive him for what he’d done.
He hoped that what he had done would make sense to her when she heard it, but part of the reason he hadn’t contacted her at all in the last five years was because he was afraid that he decided wrong, and he should have told her everything.
In hindsight, it was easy for him to see that would have been the best choice, but at the time, he didn’t want anything that would make him look like less in her eyes.
He had two more years until the bankruptcy was off his credit record, and it could be buried forever.
Or at least as buried as it would ever get.
He thought he would wait two more years before he came to see her.
Two more years to multiply the millions he’d made in the last five into perhaps a billion.
Becky, being the stubborn, willful, faithful girl that she was, wouldn’t ever be with anyone else. He was sure of that. She had told him she was devoted to him, and even if he disappeared from the face of the earth, she would never go back on her word.
But now, he had no ring, no big apology, no over-the-top gift, and it was freezing in here.
He had been spending most of his time in LA, and the climate shock was…massive, to say the least.
“Have you spoken with your sister?” he asked as he walked over.
He knew that was the one thing she would talk to him about.
If Rita had talked to her about taking care of the twins while Rita dealt with whatever it was she needed to deal with.
She hadn’t told him. All she said was that she was going to be delivering twins on Friday and that she was not going to be able to take care of them right away.
And she wanted them to be cared for by Becky and him.
Of course, he would give Rita anything she wanted, because he knew Becky doted on her.
He hadn’t even asked how she had found his number or what had made her think that this was a good idea.
Because he knew nothing about children and even less about babies, other than it was always nice when someone else was doing something with them, and he was not.
“That’s who was on the phone.”
“That’s who was on the phone that caused you to throw it against the wall and scream that you hated me?
” That made sense. She had just been asked to take care of babies alongside him.
Well, if he’d wondered how she felt about him, now he knew.
And if he’d wondered how she was going to feel about taking care of her sister’s children with him, he had a pretty clear picture of that as well.
He’d made some dumb mistakes in his life, a couple that made him lose the fortune that he had spent ten years amassing, but typically he wasn’t stupid.
“Yeah. That was the cause of that little outburst.” She looked up at him, gave him an absolutely fake, saccharine smile, and then went back into the horse’s stall.
She knew as well as he did that it was dangerous to work around horses when one was angry or upset.
They were very sensitive to people’s feelings, and quick movements were liable to make an already jumpy horse do something that could put a person’s life in danger.
Not that a horse, especially a Clydesdale who were known for their gentle, calm demeanor, would hurt someone on purpose, but a horse often wasn’t thinking about hurting anyone when they were just trying to get away from what they perceived as danger.
“I came as soon as she called me. Which was last night, late. She said she was getting test results back this morning, and she wasn’t sure what they were going to be, but she knew that she was going to need us.”
“Great. That was basically what she told me too,” Becky said, not looking up at him and not stopping her work.
She took the forkful of manure, dumped it in the wheelbarrow, and went back for another one.
“Can’t you stop working and look at me?” he asked, frustrated.
“Sure. Soon as I’m done here, because I’ve got a lot of things to do today, and I don’t have time to mess around with you.”
“I would have thought that not having spoken with me for five years, you’d be a little curious.”
“No. You not having spoken with me for the last five years made me not want to talk to you ever again.” She said it like it was the most natural thing in the world.
He had obviously underestimated the strength of her feelings.
Who was it that said there was a fine line between love and hate?
It seemed like Becky’s love for him had turned into hate.
And since she didn’t know all the details, she had a right to feel that way.
Even if she did know the details, she had a right to feel however she wanted to.
Of course, a person of character did not act on the way they felt but on what they knew to be right.
“Becky, we’re going to have to get along, just because we’re going to have Rita’s babies together. Unless you told her you wouldn’t do it because it was with me?”
“No. She conned me into telling her that I would do anything for her, all she had to do was ask. I said that before I realized she was going to ask me to do something with you. Otherwise, the answer would have been a resounding no and probably a heck no.”
The Becky he knew growing up might have put some profanity in there.
But as they went through their teenage years, Becky had seemed to develop a closer and closer relationship with the Lord, while Rodney had drifted away.
That was partly due to his parents. His father had cheated.
He flinched when he thought about the murder-suicide and losing both of his parents.
Even though they had not been great parents, he had struggled for a while.
Of course. But Becky had always been there to anchor him, to ground him, to remind him of what was right and good and beautiful in the world.
He had some help from the folks in Strawberry Sands as well, and Matt had helped him get into horses. That, along with Becky, and her pointing him constantly to the Lord, had pulled him out of what had been almost sure to be a downward spiral that ended in tragedy.
Then, because he dealt with Cord Stryker in Sweet Water, North Dakota, a billionaire who lived there, Ford Hansen, had taken him under his wing and taught him about business.
But he’d grown too big too fast, because he’d been in a hurry to get rich and get back to Becky, and he’d lost it all five years ago, declaring bankruptcy.
Ford Hansen could have saved him, but as Ford explained later, he wouldn’t have learned the lessons he needed to rebuild faster and better than he had before.
He appreciated what Ford had done, truly did, but…he’d been so ashamed that he hadn’t been successful the first time out of the gate that he had stopped talking to Becky, who had continued to keep up a correspondence with him throughout all the time he’d been under Ford’s tutelage.
It was his fault that he was standing here now with her spitting-nails mad and him having absolutely no idea of how to handle it. Becky had never been furious at him. She’d been angry plenty of times but never to the point he couldn’t talk to her.
Becky was still storming in and out of the stall, cleaning with an intensity that he doubted she’d shown in years. He dared any poop to try to elude her.
Silently of course.
“All right. I can see you’re busy. When will you have time to talk?”
“I don’t see that we have anything to talk about,” she said. And to his surprise, he was pretty sure she meant it.
“We’re supposedly raising your sister’s twins together. At least until she gets whatever it is figured out that she needs to figure it out.”
“She has cancer, Rodney.” Becky stopped long enough to spit those words at him, then narrowed her gaze as he felt his mouth open and his eyes widen.
Becky was losing her sister. No wonder she was acting the way she was. She probably didn’t know how to handle her grief and sadness and fear. So it was all coming out as anger.
He could understand that. He struggled for a long time with anger of his own.
Becky had been instrumental in helping him.
She pointed him to Jesus, which was what he needed.
She never made it about herself. She had always been humble.
It was one of the things that he loved about her.
Feisty, gritty, determined—i.e., stubborn—but never proud. Ever.
He walked toward her, choosing to stand in front of her so she had no choice but to stop as he put one hand on the wall and one hand on his hip.
“Get outta my way,” she said. Not meeting his eyes.
“I’m sorry to hear that your sister has cancer. She either didn’t know or didn’t tell me last night on purpose. She let me think it was just going to be for a little while.”
Becky sighed, a put-out sound that let him know that she was listening but not willingly. And he needed to hurry up.
“Regardless, that makes it even more imperative that you and I talk. When will it work for you?”
“Maybe Wednesday. Sometime in the afternoon.”
Her words were clipped, her body turned slightly away from him, and her tone saying that she didn’t care what he wanted.
“Wednesday?” he repeated, unable to believe that she didn’t have a single moment until then.
“I can meet you at the diner in Blueberry Beach. I have to go down for groceries and pick up some feed anyway.”
“All right. I’ll drive.”
“No. I can meet you there.” She met his gaze headlong, in a challenge.
Should he let it go? He couldn’t exactly force her to ride with him, but…
He probably should pick his battles. He too had made a promise to Rita before she had let him know that she wanted him to do something with Becky. Something along the lines of, “You’re like a sister to me. I’ll do whatever you ask.”
Well, what was the saying about repenting at leisure? It looked like he was going to have a good long while to wish that he had been a little bit more inquisitive about what exactly she was going to want him to do.
Becky was obviously not in the mood to deal with him.
But maybe the fact that they were going to have to do something with these babies together would help heal the hurt he’d inflicted on her.
She was loyal to a fault. More loyal than anyone he’d ever met.
But obviously he had broken her trust, and there was a flipside to that loyalty: her ability to hold a grudge longer and deeper than anyone he ever knew.
Of course, as a Christian, she knew that wasn’t right, and she’d tried to moderate that side of her personality back when she was younger. He wouldn’t be surprised if by Wednesday, her anger had dissipated and she was a lot more reasonable. Probably it was a good idea to wait to talk until then.
“All right. I’ll meet you at the diner in Blueberry Beach. Twelve okay?”
“Two.” Now he thought she was just being contrary.
But he knew how to handle contrary people. After all, Ford had taught him the art of negotiating since that had an awful lot to do with a person’s ability to make money.
“All right. Two. At the Blueberry Beach diner. I’ll be there.”
“Yeah, I’ve heard that before.”
He had started to turn away. He knew her jab was designed to hurt him. It succeeded. She was right. She had heard him make promises before, heard him say that he would be somewhere for her. And he’d broken those promises. He thought he had good reason, but… Becky probably wouldn’t agree.
“You can count on it, sweetheart.”
“I am not your sweetheart,” she said, throwing the manure she had on her fork into the wheelbarrow so forcefully some of it spilled out the other side.
He looked at it, then looked up at her, but she had already spun on her heel and stomped away.
He’d thought for a while that his life was full and busy, and he wanted it that way, because he only gave himself two more years to make whatever money he was going to make so that he could come back to Becky, wealthy and successful, and ask her to marry him, finally.
He had a feeling he hadn’t known what busy was.