Joey's Surprise

by Bo N. Arro

After the death of her husband, Melinda believes she needs no one. That is, until she falls in love again. But will Bobby's past make him off-limits? Complete.

9. Rejection

The ride to the O'Brien's house was a quiet one.  Even Joey did not talk much.  Melinda was lost in thought while Bobby surveyed the surroundings.

He nodded to the southern sky.  "Looks like we may get a few storms today."  Then the silence fell again.

Melinda held an inward conversation with herself.  She was confused.  Could she allow herself to fall for a man with an uncertain future?  No, she answered.  She looked at him momentarily.  Her heart fluttered.  Too late.  You already have.

Then what are you going to do? she asked herself.  What if he has to leave suddenly?  Or suppose he gets arrested?

Better yet, what if he doesn't feel the same way about you as you do toward him? He has been spending a lot of time at Betty Hoffine's house.   Either way, you're setting yourself up for a heartbreak.  You've got to stop this.  You cannot let yourself feel this way.  Stop it.

She sat up straight.  She would force herself to control her emotions.  She would not fall any deeper for Bobby Lester.  Her feelings for him must now come to a dead stop.  She squared her shoulders.  You can do this, she told herself.  She refused to look at him the rest of their journey.

She pushed both feet firmly against the floorboard of the wagon.  No pain in her ankles.  And even if they did still hurt, she would not, could not ask Bobby for his help.  She would endure any pain necessary to avoid him carrying her again.  His embrace stirred up the emotions she was now trying to eradicate.

When Bobby brought the team to a stop outside the O'Brien's farmhouse, Melinda moved quickly to climb from the wagon.

"Hold on, I'll help you," Bobby told her.

She moved even faster.  "I'm fine.  I don't need your help."  But she spoke too soon.  Her heel caught on her skirt hem, and she fell toward the ground.  Bobby arrived at her side just in time to catch her.

"Ya all right?"

She nodded.  "I don't know what's wrong with me.  I'm just so incredibly clumsy lately."

"You're still weak from the scarlet fever," Bobby said.

She nodded again—anything to blame it on.  "Okay.  I'm alright now.  You can put me down."

He shook his head.  "I don't think so.  You have two hurt legs and are pretty shaky.  I'll take you inside."

"I can make it myself."

"No."  His voice made it clear that his decision was final.  "We don't want you hurt again."

She sighed deeply as she watched Joey climb from the wagon.  Her attempt to walk to the house by herself had caused her now to be in the exact position she was wanting to avoid.  She could feel Bobby's strong arms about her.  She closed her eyes, for she felt a bit dizzy.  She stiffened her body.  She could not enjoy this.  Stop it! she commanded herself again.  You cannot do this.  Stop it.

Joey ran ahead giggling.  He knocked on the door.

Birdie answered.  "Joey!"

"Oh, Aunt Birdie!  I'm so glad to see you."  He ran to her and hugged her legs.  "Do ya feel better now?  Bobby said you were still sick."

"I'm better.  I just kinda take it easy.  Where's yer momma?"

Joey laughed again.  "She's comin'.  Bobby's carryin' her!"  He put his hand over his mouth.

Birdie stepped out on the porch.  "Carryin' her?  Whatever for?"

Melinda tried to hide her blushing face.  Birdie would be able to read it like a book.

"You still sick enough to be carried?" the younger sister asked.

"She's not sick anymore," Bobby said.  "She just fell and hurt her ankle.  Well, both ankles really."

Birdie held open the door.  "Get her in here, an' let's have a look at them."

He took her to the divan and lowered her to the cushions.

"Thank you," Melinda whispered.

Birdie began untying Melinda's boots.

"I'm okay," the older sister insisted.  "There's no need for all this."

"We have to make sure there are no broken bones," Birdie told her.  She examined both feet.

"What do you think?" Bobby asked.

"Can't tell," she replied.  "She'll need to take her stockin's off.  Bobby, how 'bout you take Joey down to the corral to see his Uncle Red.  I'll let you know if anything's wrong."

"Alright."  He looked at Melinda.  "I'll be back in a bit ta check on ya."  He scooped up Joey and headed for the door.  Joey began his excited chatter.

Birdie watched the door close behind them.  She walked to the window and waited for them to get some distance from the house.  Melinda pulled at her tights.  Birdie turned to her sister.  "No need to pull them off.  You know as well—or better—than I do that I don't need yer socks off to tell a broken bone."

She walked to the couch.  Melinda remained silent and refused to look at her.  Birdie grabbed a pillow and hit her sister on the head.  "You conniving little girl!"

"What did I do?" Melinda asked.

"Oh, sure.  Play innocent."

"I don't know what you're talking about."  Melinda stood up next to her sister.

Birdie pointed to the floor.  "That's what I'm talking about.  Your feet aren't hurt."

Melinda shamefully sank back down on the couch.  "Well, they were.  I stepped in a hole."

"Well if they don't hurt anymore, then why was he carryin' you?" Birdie asked her.

Melinda shrugged.  "I fell out of the wagon, and he caught me."

"Fell on purpose I bet."

"No, it was not on purpose."

Birdie grinned.  "Did ya step in the hole on purpose?"

"Now why would I do that?"

"I don't know.  If I was single an' wantin' the attention of a certain young man, I might try somethin' of the sort too."

"Birdie Sue!  I wasn't trying anything.  It was all an accident."  Melinda leaned back against the pillows and lowered her gaze to the floor.

Birdie sat down next to her.  "Okay," she said, "So it was an accident.  But it worked."

"What?" the older sister asked.

"You got to spend a few minutes in his arms."

Melinda blushed again.  "So?"

"So?" Birdie repeated.  "So, when I liked Red, I woulda died if he carried me across the yard."

"I don't like Bobby," Melinda said.

"Sure ya do."

"No."

"Then why are you blushing?  And why did you have your face all buried in his shoulder when I went outside?"

"First of all," Melinda almost shouted, "I am not blushing.  And I only had my head against his shoulder so, so that he could… could carry me easier," she finished lamely.

"I doubt a strong man like Bobby would have any problems towin' Red across the yard, let alone someone as petite as you," Birdie pointed out.

"I was just helping."

"I bet you were."

"What does that mean?"

Birdie bit her lip.  "Oh, nothin'."

"Can we just stop this?" Melinda pleaded.  "It doesn't matter.  We haven't seen each other in over a week.  Let's not argue."

"I'm not arguin'," Birdie said.  "Just statin' facts."

Melinda rolled her eyes.  "How about we talk about something else?  Like you.  How are you feeling?"

"Much better."

"Did the doctor figure out what's wrong?"

"We found out the cause of the nausea," Birdie said.  "But there's nothin' wrong."

Melinda wrinkled her brow.  "I don't understand.  You were terribly ill."

"And I still am occasionally.  But it's worth it."

"It's worth what?'

"The reason I've been sick."

Melinda looked at her wide-eyed.  "You mean?"

She smiled.  "Uh-huh.  I'm about eight weeks along I think."

Melinda hugged her.  "That's wonderful!"  But then her face solemned.  "But that means the scarlet fever…"

"So far, things are fine," Birdie reminded her.  "We'll just have to see what happens.  I've got faith."

"And that's the best thing to do," Melinda agreed.  "Heaven knows I could do more of that myself.  Have you and Red picked out baby names yet?"

"Not yet.  We'll let ya know when we do."

The sisters talked awhile.  Birdie told of how, since she had gotten better, Red had been working day and night to make up for Bobby's absence.  The Parker boy had broken his arm when he was bucked off a horse.  Birdie offered to help Red on her good days, but of course, he refused.  She was so glad Melinda was better so that Bobby could come back to work.

Melinda explained that she had been unconscious during most of her bout with the fever.  She told of how Bobby and the doctor had been so worried.  She talked of her fall down the stairs and then their picnic at the pond.

Birdie grinned when she heard how Bobby had offered to carry Melinda.  This was her cue, she decided, to try her best to get this pair together.

Birdie insisted everyone stay for dinner.  She would fry a couple of chickens and make "all the fixin's," she said.

When everything was prepared, Melinda took Joey upstairs to help him wash up.  Here was Birdie's chance to talk to Bobby alone.  She pushed the pans of food to the back of the stove and went to find the men.

"You go on ahead," she told Red.  "I need to talk to Bobby for a minute."  Red gave her an all-knowing look and head for the house.

Bobby pulled off his gloves.  "What is it, Miss Birdie?"

"I was just wonderin' if you were plannin' on stayin' with Melinda tonight.  I know she's doin' better, but I kinda sense she's not as well as she pretends."

"I wondered that too," he said.  "She seems alright, but she keeps fallin' an' hurtin' herself.  I thought maybe she was havin' dizzy spells or was still pretty weak."

"She could be," Birdie agreed.  "But I'm sure you're eager to get back to the boardinghouse an' be by yerself."

"I don't mind at all stayin' with her iffen you think it's needed," he said.  "But she's a real independent lady.  She probably won't want me around any more."

"I doubt that'll be a problem," Birdie said under her breath.

"Course, the whole thing won't look too proper," Bobby went on.  "I've already been accused once of imposin' on 'er, if ya know what I mean.  Now, I don't care much 'bout my reputation.  You know I've been accused of worse.  But I'd never want to stain Melinda's good name."

"Everyone in town knows she's been real sick," Birdie told him.  "Surely they wouldn't assume…"

"People talk," he reminded her.

"I suppose yer right."  She smiled.  "Maybe I could come over every night an' sew ya in a bundling bag."

Bobby laughed.  "Can't say I've ever had that experience before.  Heard stories 'bout 'em though."

"Mama used to do that to Red when he came to visit overnight.  She trusted him, and he knew that.  But she just liked to give 'im a hard time.  Course, he thought it was funny, too…  Well, c'mon in for supper, and we'll think of somethin'."

Dinner was a marvelous affair.  Birdie had really out done herself.  Melinda and Bobby hadn't eaten that well in a long time.

"Everything was right good, Miss Birdie," Bobby said.  "Sure beats my cookin' any day."

"You don't cook that bad," Joey piped up.  "I really liked yer flapjacks."

Bobby chuckled and turned to Melinda.  "How ya fairin'?" he asked.

"Fine."  She gave him a fake smile.  The truth of the matter was that she was quite uncomfortable.  Now that Birdie knew that she had feelings for Bobby, she was worried what her little sister might do or say.

He placed a hand on her arm.  "How's yer ankle—or both of 'em?"

"Fine," she said again.

Birdie decided this was her time to speak up.  "Melinda, I don't think that you should be out there at yer house all alone.  You're still not completely recovered, an' with two bad ankles…"

"Bobby's gonna come home with us," Joey said.  "Ain't ya, Bobby?"

Bobby looked from Melinda to Joey to Birdie and back to Melinda.  "Uh…"  He cleared his throat.  "How 'bout some of that blackberry cobbler, Miss Birdie?"

"I'll be just fine at home by myself," Melinda said.  "Joey will be there with me."

"But Joey cant bring ya ta town if ya get sick or pick ya up if ya fall," Red told her.  He glanced toward Birdie and winked.  He'd play her little game.

Bobby cleared his throat again.  "Scuse me."  And he got up to get some cobbler.

Melinda looked at her lap and played with her napkin.  She wasn't about to start another argument with her sister—especially in front of Bobby.

Joey used his fork to push at the peas on his plate.  It looked like Bobby would not be coming home with them.  Then his frown suddenly turned into a smile.  "Why don't me an' Mama stay here instead of goin' home by arselfs?"

Everyone was silent as they looked at each other.  Birdie was first to speak.  "Well, little mister, I think that's a very good idea."

"'Cept I don't have no clothes here," Joey said.  "Mama would haf ta go git me some."

Bobby sat back down.  "I'd be happy ta take ya home ta git yer belongin's, Melinda."  He sounded relieved that the matter was resolved."

"Well, I have a ton of laundry to do.  And then ironing…"

"Bring it here," Birdie said, "And I'll help ya with it."

Melinda sighed.  "Okay, but I'll just do the dishes first."

"No, no," Birdie insisted.  "Me an' Joey will do the dishes.  Ya'll go ahead before it gets dark."  She leaned close to Red and whispered, "Or maybe they would rather wait 'til dark."

Red chuckled.  "Well, Bobby," his voice boomed, "It sure will be good to have ya back helpin' me.  I like ta killed myself the past few days."

"Good ta be back," Bobby agreed.

The sky was cloudy as Melinda and Bobby left for her house.  "Hope we beat the rain," he said.  Melinda just nodded, and the rest of the trip was wordless.

As they turned down the dirt drive, Melinda dared to ask him about his future.  She only wanted to help him.  "If you had a good lawyer," she asked quietly, "Would you turn yourself in and trust him to get you through the trial?"

Bobby sighed.  "I wondered when you'd ask me about it again."  He stared into the distance for a few moments.  "I don't rightly know, Melinda.  I just don't know if I could do that."

"I know a lawyer," she said.  "He lives in the city.  I met him there when I went to nursing school.  He's one of the very few attorneys in Texas.  I guess the judges usually do all the counseling.  But Mr. Leonard—the attorney—told me once that he was tired of seeing good people hanged for doing a bit of nothing"

"Yeah, Red mentioned your lawyer friend, but I don't know if I can put my life in the hands of someone like that."

"What about God's hands?" she asked.  "Can you trust Him?"

"I think about it," he admitted.  "And I want to.  But it's easier said than done."

"I understand," she said.  "But I can't let myself…"  She stopped.

Bobby leaned toward her.  "I'm sorry—what?"
She shook her head.  "Nothing."

He 'whoaed' the horses.  "Well, here we are."  He climbed down and offered her his hand.  "I'll just wait here," he said.

She nodded and went inside.  She stopped just inside the door.  Her breaths were short, and her heart pounded.  She almost couldn't believe she was reacting this way.  A few weeks ago she didn't know if she could let herself love again.  But now she knew exactly what she wanted.  She wanted Bobby Lester.  It did not matter that he was on the run.  She wanted to be with him at all cost.  She would help him through the difficult days ahead, whether it meant speaking up for him in court or traveling with him when he decided it was time to move on.  The decision was his, but she would stand by it.

Bobby pulled off his gloves and threw them hard against the wagon floorboard.  He rubbed his face and ran his fingers through his hair as he spun in a half circle.  He paced along side the wagon.  I wish there was some way, he thought.  But he could never turn himself in.  He could never risk being imprisoned or hanged.  But yet he knew he could not ask Melinda and Joey to join him in his life on the run.  And now he knew it was time for him to move on, to get away from these feelings.  If he was no longer near Melinda, surely eventually his love for her would disappear.

He shook his head.  No, no, I can't leave.  I need her.  I love her.

But does she love you? something inside him asked.

I don't know, he answered.  He sighed.  I should just leave.

He leaned against the wagon wheel.

Melinda gathered her and Joey's clothes and slowly walked down the stairs.  She hit her elbow on the banister.  Reality seemed to sink in along with the pain.  Bobby has never given you any reason to believe that he has feelings for you, she thought.

You're right, she replied to herself.  I have no idea how he feels about me, but I'll still stand by his decision of whether or not to turn himself in.

But he could leave at any time, her inner self added.  What if he leaves without you?

Then I'll take that chance.

What about Betty Hoffines? she asked herself.  She shrugged.  If Bobby was courting Betty, then Melinda would simply be a friend to them both.  She would help them in any way they needed help.

Bobby took the suitcase and the duffel bag from her and tossed them in the wagon.  He lifted her to the platform and climbed in beside her.  He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye.  He was very aware that she had moved closer to him after he sat down.  No, it's my imagination, he chided himself.

Melinda stole a look in his direction.  I wonder if he notices how close I am sitting, she thought.  No, I'm sure he doesn't.

Neither of them said anything.  A light rain began to fall just a few minutes into their journey.

"You wanna go back an' wait for it ta quit rainin'?" Bobby asked.

"It's okay," she said.  "It's kind of nice."

"Yeah, it's peaceful.  Isn't it?"  He pulled his glove on tighter.

They passed the creek, still full from the last storm.  Suddenly lightening flashed across the sky, and thunder 'boomed' next to them.  Melinda jumped and grabbed Bobby's arm.  He gasped as his entire being tingled with her touch.  She blushed and let go of his arm.

As they traveled, the sky grew darker.  A few miles from the O'Briens' farm, the rain began to pour.  Bobby quickly directed the team toward a small patch of trees next to the road.  They stopped near a tall oak.  He jumped down and reached for Melinda.  He did not bother with simply offering her a hand this time.  He picked her up at the waist and lifted her from the platform.  She did not object.

He spun on his heels and gently lowered her to the dry ground beneath the tree.  He did not remove his hands, but held her for a moment.  Her pulse quickened.  Was he telling her that he loved her too?

As she moved to push herself further into his embrace, he let her go and turned sharply.   He stepped to the other side of the tree.  Her shoulders dropped.  She looked his way, feeling that she might cry.  He ran a gloved hand through his wet hair.  She could see his muscles ripple under his clinging shirt.  She bit her lip and turned her back to him.  She closed her eyes, and let out the slightest whimper.  She wanted to run away, get as far from him as possible.  She could not control her emotions any longer.  She must either share them with him or simply avoid him until her heart forgot him.

She jumped when she felt a hand on her shoulder.  She slowly opened her eyes.

"What's wrong?" Bobby asked from directly behind her.  "Are you scared of the storm?"

She could not speak, so she simply shook her head.  She breathed in and suddenly began to sob uncontrollably.  She was scared—but not of the storm.  She was afraid that she would have to spend the rest of her life without him.

Tell him, her inner voice commanded.  Tell him now.

Bobby placed both his hands on her arms, turned her around, and pulled her close.  He wrapped his arms around her.  The warmth of his embrace seemed to melt her tears away.  When she had stopped crying, he pushed her away slightly and looked into her eyes.  "What is it?"

She pushed her finger against her bottom lip and bit at her fingernail, wondering how he would react to her basically throwing herself at him.  "I, I…"

He glided his hands the full length of her arms and held her hands in his.  "Yes?"

"I have to tell you this, or I will just burst," she said.

Now his heartbeat quickened.  "Tell me what?"

She lowered her eyes to the ground.  "I may be making a total fool of myself by saying this.  I know you have been courting Betty Hoffines.  But I cannot keep this from you or myself any longer."  She breathed in deeply.  "Bobby, I love you."

His solemn face brightened into a smile.  He pulled her close again.  "Oh, Melinda," he whispered against her hair, "I had hoped, but I didn't know.  And…"  He lifted her and spun her in circles.  He laughed, quickly sat her back down, and then kissed her on the cheek.  "I'm not courtin' Betty Hoffines.  I've just been fixin' up her house so that she can sell it when her and Doc Stokely get married."

"Doctor Stokely?" Melinda asked.  "Philip and Betty?"  She laughed.  "Oh my, I was so afraid you would tell me that you didn't feel the same about me as I do you," she said.

"Are you kiddin'?" he grinned.  "It didn't take me long to fall fer you.  An' I think I fell for Joey even before that."

She giggled again.  He kissed her lips slowly and tenderly, something he had waited a very long time to do, he thought.  Her heart seemed to leap to her throat.  But then he loosened his embrace and slowly pushed her away.  He shook his head.

"What?" she asked.  She could tell by his change of expression that something was wrong.

He rubbed the back of his neck and sighed.  "I can't…  We can't…"  He dropped his hands to his side and walked passed her.  He stared into the rainy distance.  "I cannot turn myself in," he said matter-of-factly.

"It's okay."  Her voice was soft and caring.  "I won't ask you to."

He turned back toward her.  "But I could never let you live the life I live.  Always on the run.  Constantly lookin' over yer shoulder.  That's no life for a lady or a child.  It's too dangerous."

"I'm willing to take that chance," she said.  I'll go with you anywhere you need to go.  Joey and I can handle it."  She smiled.  "In fact, it sounds rather exciting."

"No."  He shook his head again.  "I can't let you do it.  I'd never forgive myself if somethin' happened to you or Joey."

"Nothing will happen to us," she assured him.  "Everything will be fine."

"But then suppose somethin' happens to me," he continued.  "Then you'd be far from yer family an' all alone."

"Bobby, don't talk like that.  Nothing's going to happen.  We'll be fine," she insisted.

"The rain's stopped."

"What?"

"It's stopped rainin'."

"Then I guess we'd better go."  She bit at her thumbnail and started for the wagon.  He followed.

The rest of the trip was void of conversation.  Melinda was heartbroken that Bobby was so set against their relationship.  If he loved her, why did he not want her to be with him?  She did not know he was mentally trying to come up with another solution.

They pulled in front of the O'Brien's house as the newly revealed sun sank behind the western hills.  The rain was now only a dark band on the eastern horizon.

Bobby helped Melinda down form the wagon and then returned to his seat.  "I'll put everything in its proper place," he said.  "I'll set your suitcase inside the front door.  An' then I'm gonna go on home."

She nodded dumbly and walked slowly toward the house.  She sighed an almost sobbing breath, for her throat was extremely tight and sore from crying.  Perhaps by morning, he'd change his mind, she thought.  She closed the door behind her and stood momentarily in the entryway.

Joey stepped around the corner.  "Mama, is Bobby stayin' the night too?" he asked.

Her heart sank even deeper.  "No, honey.  He's going to his home."

"Oh," Joey muttered and ran back to the kitchen where he'd left his toys on the floor.

Birdie, wiping her hands on her apron, passed him, and shuffled toward the door.  "Oh, look," she said.  "You look like a wet kitten.  How 'bout I warm ya up some water for a hot bath?  We'll get ya outa those damp clothes."

Melinda unbuttoned her collar button.  "'Kay."

Birdie stepped closer.  "What's the matter?" she asked.

"Nothin'," Melinda mumbled.  "Ain't nothin' wrong."

Birdie's eye widened.  "Somethin' sure is," she insisted.  "When you let yer schoolbook grammer slip, yer angry or sick or somethin'."  She took Melinda by the arm.  "C'mon.  I'll get ya some coffee, an' you can tell me all about it."

Melinda followed her reluctantly.  "I don't wanna talk about it."  She sat down at the kitchen table.

"Joey," Birdie said, "I've got some new picture books for ya.  They're in the parlor.  Why don't you go look at them?"

His eyes brightened.  "Sure thing, Aunt Birdie."  He skipped from the room.

Birdie sat a steaming mug in front of Melinda.  "Ya want a cookie?"

Melinda shook her head slightly and took a small sip of coffee.

"Now," Birdie said as she sat down beside her sister.  "Why the long face?"

"I said I don't want to talk about it."  She fingered her coffee cup.

"Melinda Diane, you've always been the strong one.  I've always shared my problems with you so that you could help.  This time I want to help you.  Now, please tell me what's wrong.  Is it Bobby?"

The older sister closed her eyes, and a single tear rolled down her cheek.  She held her breath in an attempt not to cry, but soon the sobs shook her shoulders.

Birdie leaned against her.  "Go ahead an' cry.  Get it all out."

"We got caught by the rain," Melinda coughed.  "So we stopped at a little grove of trees.  I felt like I was gonna explode.  You were right about me.  I was—am—in love with him.  But I had no idea how he felt about me."

"So you asked him?" Birdie wondered.

She brushed the remaining tears from her eyes and shook her head.  "No, I just told him that I loved him and prayed he'd say them same."

"And he didn't?"  Birdie sounded amazed.

"No, he did.  He said he had fallen for me a long time ago."        

"So what's the problem?"

"I had already decided that I wouldn't ask him again to turn himself in.  I was willing to move with him and go anywhere he needed to go to get away from his past—and the authorities even.  But he said that he wouldn't allow me to go.  He pretty much told me we could never be together."

"You're kidding."

"No."  Melinda pushed her coffee cup away.  "I can't understand why, if he loves me, he won't let me go with him."

"He wants to protect you," Birdie said.  "He knows life with him could potentially be dangerous.  He doesn't want you or Joey to get hurt."

"But the pain I'm feeling right now is greater than any harm that could ever come to my physical self."  Her voice cracked.

"I'm so sorry, Melinda.  I'll talk to Red.  Maybe we can come up with an answer.  Or maybe Bobby will think of somethin'.  You go on upstairs, an' I will bring ya that hot water for the bath we talked about.  It'll make ya feel a little better."

Melinda cried herself to sleep that night.  Joey had asked her several times what was wrong, but all she could tell him was that she didn't feel well.