Complicated Matters (5 page)

   The admiration was short-lived when she felt his hand slide up the inside of  her thigh. She slapped his hand away.

   He raised her top and started kissing her abdomen. “There’s nothing to fear.” 

   “I’m not scared.” Farrah put her shirt back down and sat up on the bed. “I just can’t.” 

   Ted put her hand against his bare chest. “Feel that? I gave to you along time ago.”

   “I know, and I’m sorry.” She looked away from him. “This just isn’t a good time.”

   “What’s wrong, don’t you love me anymore?”

   “Yes, but--”

   “We’re not kids anymore, Farrah. A few kisses and a little touch isn’t good enough. We love each other. We should express those feelings.” He unhooked her bra and grabbed one of her breasts. “They’re perfect.”

   His grip was strong. Her nipples throbbed as they hardened. This was new experience, and it wasn’t one she was sure she liked. “Ted--”

   “Shhh.” He leaned forward and traced her ear with his tongue. “I promise, nothing is going to change except for the better.”             

   She put her hands on his bare shoulders. 

  
Bang, bang, bang!

   Farrah pushed Ted off her. “Did you hear that?” 

   He slipped his hand under her skirt. “Ignore it, they’ll go away.”

   She slapped his face when she felt his fingertips try to enter her.

   “Would you quit bein’ so uptight?” He rubbed the side of his face where she hit him.  “What’s the big deal? It’s just sex.”

   She couldn’t believe her ears. “If you think it’s just sex, then you really don’t know me at all.”

   “Okay. I’m sorry.” He rubbed her bare foot. “Your first time should be special.”

   She relaxed until the banging on the door started again. 

   “Please let us in.” A man pleaded from outside. “My wife’s in labor, and the bridge is washed out.” 

   “I can’t ignore that.” She straightened her clothes and grabbed one of her dad’s rifles from the gun cabinet, as she headed for the door.

   Ted stared at her. “Do you know how to use that thing?” 

   “Yeah.” She wondered of she was the only person in Morgansville who knew how to handle a gun. “Stay out of sight until I find out what’s going on.” She flung open the heavy, wooden door.

   A tired looking man was standing on her front porch holding his wife who doubled over in pain. He was extremely pale as he stared down the barrel of Farrah’s rifle. “My name is Tom Watkins, and this is my wife, Jordan. She’s in labor and the bridge is washed out.”

   Farrah opened the door and stepped aside. “I’m Farrah Mathews, and this is my friend, Ted. My bedroom is right through that door.” She pointed the way. “Ted, get some clean towels and fresh sheets from the linen closet down the hall.”

   Tom laid his wife down on Farrah’s bed.

   Farrah removed some scissors and thread from the nightstand. “How close are the contractions?”

   “Eight minutes,” Jordan answered through labored breaths.

   She handed the scissors to Ted. “Take these scissors to the kitchen and soak them in alcohol. You’ll find it in the cabinet above the sink.”

   He stared at the scissors. “Do you know what you’re doing?” 

   “Do I have a choice?” she huffed. “Grow up, and pull yourself together.”

   “Mr. Watkins, put some warm water in a big bowl and bring it back here.”

   The men left the room, and Farrah made Mrs. Watkins as comfortable as possible. “Okay Mrs. Watkins, here we go. Just do what comes naturally.” Farrah stood at the end of the bed with a towel.

   “Have you ever delivered a baby before?” Mrs. Watkins asked in between bouts with labor pains.

   “You really don’t want me to answer that.” She removed the woman’s panties. “Come on, Mrs. Watkins. Stay strong.”

   “You’re looking at what no other woman has ever seen before. I think it’s time you call me Jordan.”

   “A sense of humor.” Farrah’s voice cracked. “That’s a good thing at a time like this. Right?”

   The electricity went out.

  
Great.  Just what we need
. “There’s a lantern on the kitchen table. Somebody bring it in here,” she ordered.

   Mr. Watkins sat the basin of warm water on the nightstand, then started back toward the kitchen. “I’ll get it.” 

   “Ted, call nine-one-one on your cell. Tell them what’s happening and don’t forget to warn them about the bridge.”

   Farrah tried to see what was going on, but it was too dark. “I need that lamp in here, Tom.”

   Jordan’s husband finally returned with the lamp. The room filled with the dim glow. 

   “Everything’s gonna be alright, Jordan.” Her words of encouragement were more a plead to God. “Come on now, you got this.”

   After a lot of pushing and screaming, came a flood rush of joyous tears as the youngest Watkins made her grand entrance into this world.

   “She’s beautiful.” Farrah cleaned the baby and wrapped her in a big, fluffy towel. “Time to meet Mama.” She laid the baby in Jordan’s arms. “Do you have a name picked out?”

   “We were going to call her Christine, but I think I’d like you to name her.” She looked up at her husband. “That is, if it’s alright with you, Tom.”

   Tom admired his new daughter. “If that’s what you really want.” 

   Farrah watched the new family. “My mother’s name is Tara.” Tears streamed down her cheeks as she smiled. “She died earlier this year.”

   “Tara Christine Watkins.” Jordan watched her baby as she said her name. “It’s beautiful.”

   The lights came back on.

   “See there?” Tom never took his eyes off his daughter. “She’s performin’ miracles already.” 

   “Daddy, would you please take Tara into the other room, while we get things situated in here?” asked Farrah. “I think Mama could use a shower and some clean clothes.”

   “My suitcase is still in the truck,” said Jordan. “I don’t want Tom getting any wetter than he already is.”

   “I think I have some dry clothes for both of you. That is, if you don’t mind wearing my parents’ clothes.”

   The couple stared at each other.

   “Mom and Dad weren’t big on wasting.” She opened a sealed box and took out some jeans and a work shirt for Tom and her mom’s favorite cotton gown for Jordan. “They may not be a perfect fit, but they’ll do for tonight.” She placed the clothes in Tom Watkins’ arms. “If you can help Jordan, I’ll look after Tara. There’s clean sheets in the closet.”

   *

   Once the family settled in, Farrah grabbed a shower and collapsed on the couch. “Why don’t you take one of my brothers’ rooms for the night, Ted? I’ll wait on the rescue squad.”

   “What? And let you be the hero all by yourself?” He shook his head. “No, ma’am. I’m gonna sit right here with you.” Ted smiled and guided her head to his lap. “You really are a hero.” He brushed her hair back from her face.

   “I was just there to catch the baby.” Farrah closed her eyes. “Jordan Watkins did all the work.” 

   He started playing with the straps on her top. “Well, you’re my hero.” 

   She grabbed his hand and held in hers. “Is that all you ever think about?”

   “You’re going to find out exactly what’s on my mind after our guests leave.” He leaned down and kissed her shoulder.

   The animals went crazy when the rescue copter landed in Farrah’s yard.

   She opened the door for the rescue team.

   A man pulled a gurney into the house. “Is someone in need of assistance?” 

   Ted pointed the way. “The family’s in there.” 

   The rescue team stopped when they saw the family huddled together asleep on Farrah’s bed.

   “Mrs. Watkins, we’re here to take you to the hospital.” A member of the team said, as he pulled back the cover. “Congratulations, Mr. Watkins. It’s not every day a man gets to deliver his own daughter.”

   “And today isn’t one of them. The young lady handled everything.” He hugged Farrah. “You take care of yourself, and thanks again.”

  Once everyone was gone, Farrah locked the living room door.

   She turned around and came face-to-face with Ted’s bare chest.

   Before she could say anything, he started kissing her. “I believe we were discussing promises.” 

   It felt as though his hands were touching every part of her body at once. She could feel her dress rising higher and higher. She pulled it back down. “I’m sorry, but I can’t.” She raced back to her room and locked the door. She flung herself on her bed and buried her head under her pillow. If Ted had anything to say, she didn’t want to hear it.

   Chapter 7

   Taylor lay on his couch getting ready for his favorite sleep aide when the laptop beeped.  He raised the screen.

   “Taylor, where are you?”

   “At what passes for a home in this town. What can I do for you, Commander?”

   “You can get over to the Mathews’ place. Fugitive Daniels, escaped tonight.”

   Adrenaline shot through Taylor like a lightening bolt. “How in the hell did he do that?”

   “He was being transported from the courthouse to the prison when his transport was broadsided. During the commotion he killed two guards and escaped.”

   “I am asking you again, Commander. How did one man in chains overcome three armed guards and escape?”

   “That is still under investigation.”

   Taylor paced back and forth. “That’s unbelievable. Was the third guard at least able to say in which direction Daniels fled?”

  “The third guard isn’t up to answering questions. Your only priority is protecting the Mathews family. Now get your ass over there and don’t alarm them. Phillips out.”

   “Phillips out,” Taylor muttered. He shrugged on his uniform and donned his raincoat.  The rain stung his face as it pelted him. He hated the rain. It reminded him of the night his wife died.

   Barely able to see the black-top road, he turned off the main road onto Old Rocky Ford Road.
Flash.
Something ran across the road, and then it was gone.

   “What the--” He skidded to a halt. The mixture of wet clay and dirt made walking tricky. Twice Taylor almost slipped before finding the problem. The bridge was gone.

   Taylor unfastened his gun strap and shined his flashlight where the bridge should have been. The supports revealed saw marks. He looked around.
This was no accident.

   “Sheriff Taylor to dispatch.”

   “Whatcha need, Sheriff?”

   “I’m standing in front of the bridge on Old Rocky Ford Road. Send two deputies out here, and two more on the other end of the road. Tell them to maintain high visibility and check everyone who comes out here; license, registration, everything.”

   “What’s wrong, Sheriff? Did the bridge wash out?”

   “No it didn’t wash. The supports were cut. Get the Department of Transportation out here to fix this thing. Taylor out.”

   Deputies Jones and Edwards arrived shortly after Taylor called the dispatcher. 

   “Beautiful night, Sheriff,” Jones laughed.

   “Yeah, yeah.” Taylor looked around. “I owe you big. Maintain high visibility.” 

   Edwards looked at the creek. “What’s got ya spooked?” 

   “Somebody sabotaged the bridge. Is there another way down this road?”

   “You can take the interstate to the other side,” Jones said. “It’ll take you about an hour.”

   “Not good enough.” Taylor jumped into the truck and started backing up.

   “That jalopy can’t swim, Sheriff,” Edwards laughed.

   “No. But maybe it can wade real fast.” Taylor backed the truck up until he had enough room. Then he floored the gas. It was full speed ahead. The truck sounded like it was about to fall apart as it hit the place where the bridge should have been. Mud and water spit everywhere. As his traction increased, his truck picked up speed. He hit the breaks, and the old truck fishtailed as it skidded to a halt. “Be careful, boys.” 

   Taylor crept down the road, taking care to examine everything as best he could. Nothing seemed out of place as far as he could tell.
Quit kidding yourself, Taylor. You don’t know a damn thing about the kind of farming that goes on up here. Why didn’t they give this assignment to someone qualified to do it?

   He crept his way to the Mathews’ house. A red Jeep was parked at front of the house, the tag read
TDYBR
. “Teddy Bear?” He shook his head, as he crossed the yard. 

   He was about to knock, when he heard Old Teddy Bear trying to get into Farrah’s pants.

   “What’s gotten into you?” she screamed.

  
Smart girl.
Taylor smiled.
You’re too good for anybody who’s dumb enough to  call himself Teddy Bear
.