SEND ME AN ANGEL
The car was silent the rest of the way home. Judge Harlow knew that Zac loved Bessie. He could already tell. A man like him wouldn't have gone the lengths he had gone for her if he didn't.
His mind started to wander to the day he allowed Bessie to go to the fair with Millie. Boy, poor Zac's life sure had become a whirlwind since he'd met his daughter, it seemed, though he admittedly didn't really know what it had been like before. It had only been a few short weeks and, already, he had gotten into two fights and had to resort to sneaking around with his daughter, because he had been just as impossible to deal with as the boys he'd fought with. Judge Harlow didn't want to make Zac's life difficult. It was apparent that it was already difficult enough as it was, being poor and being in love with a rich man's daughter.
The judge knew he would have to leave to go to the police station as soon as he took his wife and daughter home. He would go to the station and he would tell the police everything he saw. Every little thing, every little detail, every single name. He didn't care that these boys represented the pride of Tulsa, winning football games or playing in championships--they did wrong and they deserved to pay for it.
Judge Harlow couldn't shake the image of Zac out of his mind. It was heartbreaking. He'd watched a man at his worst, beat down and helpless, right in front of his lady. No man wanted to appear that way in front of any woman, much less the one who looked to him for support. No man wanted to appear weak or less than himself. It was bad enough that he was already trying to better himself for Bessie. It had to be detrimental to his self-esteem to have Bessie watch him take the punches without being able to fight back.
Once he had parked the car and they had gone inside the house, Judge Harlow took a seat in his favorite armchair, an old green chair with velvet upholstery that his wife had been begging him to get rid of for years, and he rubbed his hands over his face and he stared off into space for a moment as he sat back in it. He had been sitting for less than a minute when he saw the movement out of the corner of his eye and turned his head to see Bessie standing there, looking at him, the pain on her face tearing his heart to shreds. Taking a breath, he held an arm out to her and said gently, "Come here, sweet pea."
Her face wrinkled up with tears as she came over and curled up in her father's lap and rested her head against his shoulder. She wrapped her arms around his neck and she sniffed in his ear and he patted her leg and he stroked her hair and he whispered, "There, there, now. I haven't held you like this in quite some time, have I?"
Her response was the silent shaking of her head.
"I know you're grown now. But it doesn't matter how old you get, you're still going to be my little baby girl. And I'm still going to want to hold you like this even when we're both old and decrepit and can't walk anymore."
"Daddy, why do people have to be so mean?" She finally asked, her voice muffled into his shirt. "Zac didn't do anything to those boys. They didn't have to hurt him."
"I know. Some people, they just--well, they just have a hard time understanding the difference between right and wrong, I guess."
"He's so upset," she whispered. "He wouldn't even let me help him."
"He needs you, even if he doesn't show it," the judge admitted softly. "We men don't like to admit our weaknesses sometimes, but the truth is, we don't know where we would be without the women in our lives."
She lifted her head and she searched his face, reaching up to wipe the tears from her eyes. "Daddy, I don't understand. Just last night you didn't want me to see Zac anymore. Now you're taking us on dates and telling me that he needs me. Did something change?"
"I did a lot of thinking between last night and today, Bessie. Your grandfather, well...he didn't like me very much. It had absolutely nothing to do with me as a person, he just didn't like my father. And he had this preconceived notion that I was going to turn out to be just like him--not that my father was a bad man, mind you. He just didn't like him. But he chose to judge me based on that and it made your mother's life very difficult. And after you and I spoke last night, I realized that I was judging Zac the very same way your mother's father judged me. And that's not fair. I'm very proud of him, Bessie, for coming to the house this evening and coming to me directly about taking you out tonight. He was respectful, he was confident, and he was sure of himself. And he adores you so. And then I watched the two of you up on that hill tonight and you reminded me of me and your mother when we were courting. And I can't do that to you, sweetheart. You deserve the chance to be happy. And if Zac makes you happy, then I'm willing to support you. You know, unless he screws up, and then we'll have to revisit this."
"Thank you, Daddy," she whispered. "Thank you so much."
Judge Harlow swept a strand of hair out of his daughter's tear-streaked face. "He got his pride hurt tonight. And he got his face pretty beat up. But, mostly, he's feeling down on himself. I'm sure he didn't want you to see any of what happened. He's broken and he feels like a complete fool. And he shouldn't be left alone right now."
"His brothers are there--"
"No. I mean he needs you. He needs his woman. He needs you to make everything okay, he needs you to reassure him that you don't see him as any less than who he is. He's humiliated and he's discouraged. I was actually waiting for you to get out of the car with him."
"Are you saying--?"
The judge nodded. "You need to go to him. You can drive the old Ford in the shed. It still runs pretty good, I'll pull it around for you."
"Daddy," she said in a small voice. "If I go, I probably won't come home tonight."
"I know," he answered solemnly. "You're in a relationship now, you have to take care of him."
Bessie nodded as she dried her tears up and she stood from her father's lap. "Okay," she agreed, smoothing out her dress and attempting to gather her confidence. "Okay, I will."
As Judge Harlow stood, he struggled to gather his own composure. The years had gone by so fast since the day she was born. And for eighteen years, he was the only man that had mattered in her life. And now he was delivering her into the arms of another man who loved her and he only prayed that he appreciated her and that he didn't take her for granted, for Zac had found himself a rare gem in Bessie.
He could only watch in silence as Catherine helped Bessie gather things she would need to care for her beau through the night. She sent medicine and bandages, a container of her special lemonade, a jug of fresh water, a can of coffee grounds, and the pie she'd prepared earlier in the day, along with a few more items from the kitchen that the judge had lost track of. "There's enough there for all three of them," he overheard Catherine telling her. "I know Zac's the one who got hurt, but I'm sure the other two aren't too happy to see their brother in that state, either. When it comes to close knit families like that, you get one, you get them all."
Once Bessie had found herself loaded down with a picnic basket and a bag full of medicine, the judge had pulled the old car around and helped Bessie inside. "Try to park the car where nobody can see it," he instructed. "I know nobody comes out here, but you can't be too careful these days."
Watching her drive down the road was like watching her go off to kindergarten. He wasn't supposed to feel this way until he'd left her at college in a couple of months. "She's growing up so fast," his wife's voice breathed as he found her standing next to him.
"Too fast," he replied. "Much too fast."
__________________________________________________________________________________________
Zac sat at the small table in the trailer in silence, his head hanging over the cup of hot tea that Taylor had prepared for him. His arms rested on the table and his entire head throbbed with pain, along with his face. He had managed to clean the blood from himself, but he had nothing to dull the pain and even the gypsies couldn't help him tonight. Usually someone had some sort of substance laying around, but apparently it had been a slow week for everyone. And so he sat there, having only taken two sips of the tea, the only relief he got was the distraction that came from breathing in the steam from the hot liquid.
Isaac was angry, but calm, asking him questions that Zac didn't have the physical strength to answer. Taylor, on the other hand, was raring to go, ready for a fight. "Ike, come on. Why are we still standing here? Let's go out there and pound them!"
"There's nothing to pound," Zac muttered, his voice flat and dull. "They're all at the police station."
"They have friends," Taylor objected. "They're all one in the same. We can find a few of them to mess up."
"We are not going out to pick a fight with random people," Isaac said. "We are not stooping to their level."
"But, come on, look at him!"
"How about just not look at me?" Zac said. "Just leave it alone. It's done and it's over. Just let it go."
"How much of it did she see?" Isaac asked gently.
"Everything. They approached her before I even came out the door. I think they were staking me out tonight."
"Damn," Isaac muttered. "She didn't need to see that."
"No," Zac agreed. "But if it hadn't been for her, they probably would have beaten me to a pulp and then left me for dead." Then, in his frustration, he pounded the tiny wooden table with his fist. "Goddamn it, I didn't even get a punch in!" He lamented through his teeth. And then his head throbbed again and he squeezed his eyes shut as the pain caused nausea to take over his stomach again.
His brothers were silent after that. He didn't even hear the whispers that he expected to follow. The trailer was quiet and he was glad for it.
Half an hour or so later, after the hot tea under his face had long since grown cold, he heard the light rapping on the door at the front of the trailer behind him. And then he heard Isaac say, "My brother's been through a lot of shit since you came along, you know that? A lot of physical pain, a lot of emotional pain..."
Zac didn't hear the response.
"Yeah, he's here. It's not like he can really go anywhere right now. He can barely stand up."
After a response Zac once more couldn't hear, Isaac said, "You know, I should send you away. He doesn't need any more stress, he doesn't need to worry--"
"Ike, just shut the fuck up and let her in," Zac muttered, still unable to lift his head. "Just--just leave her alone and let her in."
Zac wanted to move as he heard Bessie bustle through the trailer, but he physically couldn't handle it. His head still throbbed and his stomach muscles were sore, as he had taken punches all the way around, from his sides to his belly. He listened to her as she stopped at the counter behind him and he heard the items as she placed them on the counter. "I brought some things with me, for all three of you," her sweet voice said, filled with authority, a tone that Zac wasn't used to. "There's fresh water, coffee, a fresh pie, and some of my mama's special lemonade that should only be had in moderation. I think there's some fruit, bread, and a few vegetables, too. Don't be afraid to help yourselves."
Then he lifted his eyes enough to hazily watch the medications land on the table in front of him. He saw bandages, a rag, a bottle of liquid and a bottle of some kind of medicine and his body melted with relief. He didn't know what was in the bottles and he didn't care. He would have taken anything, without question.
But he didn't see her. Instead, he listened to more things clang around on the counter before she finally approached him and moved the cup of tea from underneath his face. He sat up as she gently pushed his shoulder back and she tucked her dress underneath her and stepped over him, perching herself up on the table in front of him and letting her ankles dangle between his legs.
Completely powerless, losing all sense of strength, he let his head collapse into her lap and he closed his arms around her body as she ran her fingers gently through his hair. "Bessie," he breathed. "How are you here?"
"That doesn't matter," she replied softly. "What matters is I'm here."
"It hurts, Bessie," he found himself whining, but not caring a thing about what he sounded like. "Everything hurts."
"I know. I'm gonna fix it, don't you worry."
"I don't think you can. You can't fix it."
"I can and I will. Zac," she said, lifting his chin up so that he could look at her. "I love you. And I'm not going to sit around and let you hurt."
Looking up at her was like looking at an angel. His hazy vision created a soft glow around her under the dim light and she looked absolutely heavenly, almost like a dream. But she was real. She was very real and she was warm and she was soft and her mere presence was enough to comfort him and make him feel whole again. She may have sat before him in flesh and blood, but she was his own personal angel and she had saved his life. That, he believed wholeheartedly.
And she loved him.
He let his head collapse back into her lap and he closed his arms tighter around her. "Why is everyone trying to tear us apart?"
"Nobody is trying to tear us apart," she whispered.
"They are. They all are. Billy Connors and his cronies and your father and--"
"Mm-mm," she objected, lifting his head again. "Daddy isn't. You know that. Here." She paused and she gently placed a towel filled with ice against his face. "Hold this against your face. I know you're strong enough for that."
He did as he was told, the ice stinging momentarily before it began to feel good against his hot, throbbing skin. "Ice? Where did you get ice? We don't have any ice."
"I brought it from home. Mama let me carry it in her insulated container. Don't let me forget to take it back." Then she looked up at someone behind him. "Taylor, will you pour me a cup of fresh water, please? Thank you."
Apparently his brother had jumped on the request because he brought the water in a matter of seconds and Bessie reached behind her for the pill bottle. "Here. Daddy sent some pain medication--"
"Your father? He knows you're here?"
"Mmhmm," she nodded. "He let me drive the spare automobile and he helped me gather some of these things." Then she lifted his chin again. "Daddy and I talked. He's not against us. You really impressed him tonight, apparently. There have been some misunderstandings, but they're worked out. We don't have to worry about my father anymore."
Zac couldn't help the smile that pained his mouth as it spread across his face. Then he winced at the pain and he closed his mouth again.
"Stop trying to smile, I get that you're glad to hear that," she commanded. She opened the bottle and emptied a small, white pill into her hand. "Here, take this. It'll help the pain. And the way Daddy described it, it should help all the pain."
"What is it?"
She studied the pill in her hand. "Something with hydrocodone in it? The doctor prescribed it for when Daddy had bad back pain last year. Daddy says only take one because it'll put you on your...you know what. But the pain will go away. It might even help you sleep."
"Sleep," Zac groaned. "I like sleep. I could use some of that."
Taking the ice off of his face long enough to take the pill she gave him, Bessie took advantage and reached for the liquid bottle and the dry towel that sat beside her. He could smell the strong chemical scent that came from the bottle when she opened it and he watched warily as she dabbed the towel into it.
"What is that?" He asked her.
"It's an antiseptic. Mama says it'll help disinfect your cuts."
"All I hear is what your mama and daddy have to say about everything," he suddenly spat, cranky from the throbbing of his head and the pain in his sides. "What about what you have to say?"
Bessie's eyes widened and she blinked at him for a moment. Then she retorted matter-of-factly, "This is the first time I've ever doctored a man with a busted face, my love, I had to learn from somewhere. I could just sit here and let your skin rot off if you're going to be that way about it."
Zac had no response to that. Instead, he let her come at his face with the strong-smelling towel.
The moment the wet material touched his brow, it felt like someone was stabbing straight through his skin with a large, sharp knife. He couldn't help the instant reaction that came with it when he pounded his fists hard against the table and he growled violently through his teeth, "GODDAMN IT, WOMAN, ARE YOU TRYING TO FINISH ME OFF?"
Quickly she jerked the rag back and she closed her hand over her mouth. "I'm so sorry! I had no idea it would sting that much--"
"Shut up and take it, Zac," Isaac's voice shot out all of a sudden. "If she wasn't here, you'd still be moping in pain all over that table."
Isaac had a point. And Zac hadn't meant to react the way he did, he'd only been surprised by the sting of the medication. "I'm sorry," he said to Bessie. "I didn't mean it. I was just caught off guard, that's all. You can--you can do it again. Just be gentle. Go slow."
And then, to his complete surprise, Bessie raised a mischievous eyebrow and smirked at him. "Well, that sounds familiar, doesn't it?"
And, with that, she could sting and mar him with all the medication she damn well pleased.
_______________________________________________________________________________________________
Bessie's father wasn't kidding about the pills.
The one she gave Zac seemed to take effect rather quickly. She had disinfected his wounds, one on his brow, one on his cheekbone, and one at the corner of his mouth, and she'd bandaged him up. Now he smiled and he chattered nonsensically as Bessie and his brothers couldn't help but giggle and laugh at him. Feeling inspired by Zac's brand new seemingly euphoric state, Bessie had uncharacteristically decided to join him and distributed her mother's special lemonade amongst herself and Isaac and Taylor, while Zac requested more water.
"My mouth is so dry," Zac kept commenting. "Is this supposed to happen? Is my mouth supposed to feel like sand?"
"I'm sure it's a side effect of the medication," Bessie giggled as she served him water and sipped her own lemonade.
"But I feel great, it's working," he said happily. "Man, I don't feel a thing! I feel like a million bucks!"
"You sure don't look like a million bucks," Isaac commented as Taylor snickered from across the room.
"I look better than you," Zac shot back as he started to stand from the wooden bench he sat on.
Bessie stood up and caught him to steady him as he stumbled a little. "Are you okay?"
He smiled at her weakly, apparent that he'd spent the energy the painkiller had given him and was now getting drowsy. "I'm okay. I just want to stretch out a little, that's all."
He stepped around the small wall that had separated the table and the bench that sat beside it and she watched as he kicked off his shoes and he pulled the seat up from the bench. She watched in fascination as the underside of the bench folded out and formed a bed, just slightly bigger than the bench seat itself, and he plucked the pillow from underneath and fluffed it before he sat down and patted the space beside him at the head of it. "Come sit next to me," he said. "Make yourself comfortable."
"Okay," she said warily, as she tucked her dress underneath herself tightly and climbed in, sitting back and letting her legs dangle off the edge. The corner by the arm of the bench enveloped her and her eyes darted around uncomfortably. Sure, she had told her father she likely wouldn't be home tonight. But she'd never slept in such close quarters with three men before.
Zac smiled at her as he leaned over and slid her shoes off of her feet. Squeezing her stocking-covered toes, his grin widened before he stretched his body out on his stomach and sighed as he rested his head in her lap and wrapped his arms around her body where he could reach her. "That's better," he breathed. "You're so comfortable."
She glanced up at Taylor and Isaac, who made little effort to hide their stares, and she suddenly felt like Wendy Darling from the old novel, "Peter and Wendy," where Wendy went to Neverland and met the Lost Boys, a group of young boys who lived alone and had no mother and looked to her for support. She felt silly for being reminded of the novel, seeing as the Hanson brothers were so much older than her and there was no way she could be viewed as a mother figure to them, but in that moment, with the wonder in their eyes, it's what she felt like. She knew, deep down, that their stares were merely concern for their brother, but she couldn't help her overactive imagination.
"Bessie?" Zac murmured.
She looked down at his bandaged face and his heavy eyes and she smiled. "Yes, Zac?"
"I love you. Thank you for noticing me."
Her smile turned into a grin and her heart melted. "I love you, too," she whispered. "Thank you for waving to me."
"Will you do that thing with my hair?"
"Of course," she replied warmly.
Trailing her fingers slowly through his hair, one strand at a time, Zac was snoring lightly within the minute.
"Well. Looks like you're sleeping over tonight," Taylor pointed out. "I told you, he sleeps like a rock. You're not gonna move him."
"I'm sorry," she whispered. "I didn't mean to intrude, honest."
"Nah. You're not intruding. Your being here is a lot better than having to hear him whine all night long."
"You helped a lot," Isaac interjected quietly. "Your presence is much appreciated."
"That wasn't your reaction to my presence earlier," she pointed out.
"I was upset. My brother had come home beaten and bloodied and there wasn't a damn thing I could do about it. I didn't mean to take it out on you."
"Well, it's okay. Daddy says all of those boys are being charged. There were so many witnesses. I think nearly half of Tulsa was there."
Isaac stood up and began to raise the windows to let the night air flow through the trailer. "Well, I don't know about the two of you, but I'm getting some shut-eye. I'm exhausted."
"Yeah, I think it's time to call it a night," Taylor agreed. Then he smirked at Bessie. "Guess that means I can't strip down to my underwear like I normally do, huh?"
Her eyes widened in embarrassment. She didn't want that visual of him!
"Tay, shut up," Isaac shot at him as he loosened his tie and removed his vest.
"What?" Taylor replied defensively. "I'm just having a little fun. Am I not allowed to have fun anymore?"
"You can have fun without being inappropriate. Sometimes you don't know when to shut your mouth. A time and a place, Tay. We've discussed this."
"I can't wait until you go to sleep," Taylor spat.
"I can't wait until I go to sleep, either."
Taylor rolled his eyes and shook his head and then he looked across the trailer at Bessie. Before she knew it, he was coming for her and leaning over her, her heart pounding, not knowing what was going on. She felt silly for her silent reaction when he reached for the blanket and tugged it out from underneath Zac and draped it over him. Then he gripped her shoulder and moved her forward as he pulled the pillow out from underneath Zac and placed it behind Bessie's back.
"There," he said, pushing her back onto it, her back now grateful for the support. "It's nice that you're taking care of him, but somebody's gotta take care of you, too."
"Oh," she whispered, bewildered. "Um, thank you..."
By now, Taylor was already preparing the bench across from Zac's, and he was kicking off his shoes and adjusting the pillow under his head, still fully-clothed, to Bessie's relief. "Yep. Anytime. Goodnight."
"Goodnight," she said.
With that, Taylor snapped off the remainder of the lights, turning the trailer completely black, save for the moonlight that shone through one of the windows. All she heard now was silence as the crickets outside played in various string quartets and as Zac lightly snored on her lap. Crossing her ankles together, Bessie strung her fingers through Zac's hair again as she lay her head back and closed her eyes.
The car was silent the rest of the way home. Judge Harlow knew that Zac loved Bessie. He could already tell. A man like him wouldn't have gone the lengths he had gone for her if he didn't.
His mind started to wander to the day he allowed Bessie to go to the fair with Millie. Boy, poor Zac's life sure had become a whirlwind since he'd met his daughter, it seemed, though he admittedly didn't really know what it had been like before. It had only been a few short weeks and, already, he had gotten into two fights and had to resort to sneaking around with his daughter, because he had been just as impossible to deal with as the boys he'd fought with. Judge Harlow didn't want to make Zac's life difficult. It was apparent that it was already difficult enough as it was, being poor and being in love with a rich man's daughter.
The judge knew he would have to leave to go to the police station as soon as he took his wife and daughter home. He would go to the station and he would tell the police everything he saw. Every little thing, every little detail, every single name. He didn't care that these boys represented the pride of Tulsa, winning football games or playing in championships--they did wrong and they deserved to pay for it.
Judge Harlow couldn't shake the image of Zac out of his mind. It was heartbreaking. He'd watched a man at his worst, beat down and helpless, right in front of his lady. No man wanted to appear that way in front of any woman, much less the one who looked to him for support. No man wanted to appear weak or less than himself. It was bad enough that he was already trying to better himself for Bessie. It had to be detrimental to his self-esteem to have Bessie watch him take the punches without being able to fight back.
Once he had parked the car and they had gone inside the house, Judge Harlow took a seat in his favorite armchair, an old green chair with velvet upholstery that his wife had been begging him to get rid of for years, and he rubbed his hands over his face and he stared off into space for a moment as he sat back in it. He had been sitting for less than a minute when he saw the movement out of the corner of his eye and turned his head to see Bessie standing there, looking at him, the pain on her face tearing his heart to shreds. Taking a breath, he held an arm out to her and said gently, "Come here, sweet pea."
Her face wrinkled up with tears as she came over and curled up in her father's lap and rested her head against his shoulder. She wrapped her arms around his neck and she sniffed in his ear and he patted her leg and he stroked her hair and he whispered, "There, there, now. I haven't held you like this in quite some time, have I?"
Her response was the silent shaking of her head.
"I know you're grown now. But it doesn't matter how old you get, you're still going to be my little baby girl. And I'm still going to want to hold you like this even when we're both old and decrepit and can't walk anymore."
"Daddy, why do people have to be so mean?" She finally asked, her voice muffled into his shirt. "Zac didn't do anything to those boys. They didn't have to hurt him."
"I know. Some people, they just--well, they just have a hard time understanding the difference between right and wrong, I guess."
"He's so upset," she whispered. "He wouldn't even let me help him."
"He needs you, even if he doesn't show it," the judge admitted softly. "We men don't like to admit our weaknesses sometimes, but the truth is, we don't know where we would be without the women in our lives."
She lifted her head and she searched his face, reaching up to wipe the tears from her eyes. "Daddy, I don't understand. Just last night you didn't want me to see Zac anymore. Now you're taking us on dates and telling me that he needs me. Did something change?"
"I did a lot of thinking between last night and today, Bessie. Your grandfather, well...he didn't like me very much. It had absolutely nothing to do with me as a person, he just didn't like my father. And he had this preconceived notion that I was going to turn out to be just like him--not that my father was a bad man, mind you. He just didn't like him. But he chose to judge me based on that and it made your mother's life very difficult. And after you and I spoke last night, I realized that I was judging Zac the very same way your mother's father judged me. And that's not fair. I'm very proud of him, Bessie, for coming to the house this evening and coming to me directly about taking you out tonight. He was respectful, he was confident, and he was sure of himself. And he adores you so. And then I watched the two of you up on that hill tonight and you reminded me of me and your mother when we were courting. And I can't do that to you, sweetheart. You deserve the chance to be happy. And if Zac makes you happy, then I'm willing to support you. You know, unless he screws up, and then we'll have to revisit this."
"Thank you, Daddy," she whispered. "Thank you so much."
Judge Harlow swept a strand of hair out of his daughter's tear-streaked face. "He got his pride hurt tonight. And he got his face pretty beat up. But, mostly, he's feeling down on himself. I'm sure he didn't want you to see any of what happened. He's broken and he feels like a complete fool. And he shouldn't be left alone right now."
"His brothers are there--"
"No. I mean he needs you. He needs his woman. He needs you to make everything okay, he needs you to reassure him that you don't see him as any less than who he is. He's humiliated and he's discouraged. I was actually waiting for you to get out of the car with him."
"Are you saying--?"
The judge nodded. "You need to go to him. You can drive the old Ford in the shed. It still runs pretty good, I'll pull it around for you."
"Daddy," she said in a small voice. "If I go, I probably won't come home tonight."
"I know," he answered solemnly. "You're in a relationship now, you have to take care of him."
Bessie nodded as she dried her tears up and she stood from her father's lap. "Okay," she agreed, smoothing out her dress and attempting to gather her confidence. "Okay, I will."
As Judge Harlow stood, he struggled to gather his own composure. The years had gone by so fast since the day she was born. And for eighteen years, he was the only man that had mattered in her life. And now he was delivering her into the arms of another man who loved her and he only prayed that he appreciated her and that he didn't take her for granted, for Zac had found himself a rare gem in Bessie.
He could only watch in silence as Catherine helped Bessie gather things she would need to care for her beau through the night. She sent medicine and bandages, a container of her special lemonade, a jug of fresh water, a can of coffee grounds, and the pie she'd prepared earlier in the day, along with a few more items from the kitchen that the judge had lost track of. "There's enough there for all three of them," he overheard Catherine telling her. "I know Zac's the one who got hurt, but I'm sure the other two aren't too happy to see their brother in that state, either. When it comes to close knit families like that, you get one, you get them all."
Once Bessie had found herself loaded down with a picnic basket and a bag full of medicine, the judge had pulled the old car around and helped Bessie inside. "Try to park the car where nobody can see it," he instructed. "I know nobody comes out here, but you can't be too careful these days."
Watching her drive down the road was like watching her go off to kindergarten. He wasn't supposed to feel this way until he'd left her at college in a couple of months. "She's growing up so fast," his wife's voice breathed as he found her standing next to him.
"Too fast," he replied. "Much too fast."
__________________________________________________________________________________________
Zac sat at the small table in the trailer in silence, his head hanging over the cup of hot tea that Taylor had prepared for him. His arms rested on the table and his entire head throbbed with pain, along with his face. He had managed to clean the blood from himself, but he had nothing to dull the pain and even the gypsies couldn't help him tonight. Usually someone had some sort of substance laying around, but apparently it had been a slow week for everyone. And so he sat there, having only taken two sips of the tea, the only relief he got was the distraction that came from breathing in the steam from the hot liquid.
Isaac was angry, but calm, asking him questions that Zac didn't have the physical strength to answer. Taylor, on the other hand, was raring to go, ready for a fight. "Ike, come on. Why are we still standing here? Let's go out there and pound them!"
"There's nothing to pound," Zac muttered, his voice flat and dull. "They're all at the police station."
"They have friends," Taylor objected. "They're all one in the same. We can find a few of them to mess up."
"We are not going out to pick a fight with random people," Isaac said. "We are not stooping to their level."
"But, come on, look at him!"
"How about just not look at me?" Zac said. "Just leave it alone. It's done and it's over. Just let it go."
"How much of it did she see?" Isaac asked gently.
"Everything. They approached her before I even came out the door. I think they were staking me out tonight."
"Damn," Isaac muttered. "She didn't need to see that."
"No," Zac agreed. "But if it hadn't been for her, they probably would have beaten me to a pulp and then left me for dead." Then, in his frustration, he pounded the tiny wooden table with his fist. "Goddamn it, I didn't even get a punch in!" He lamented through his teeth. And then his head throbbed again and he squeezed his eyes shut as the pain caused nausea to take over his stomach again.
His brothers were silent after that. He didn't even hear the whispers that he expected to follow. The trailer was quiet and he was glad for it.
Half an hour or so later, after the hot tea under his face had long since grown cold, he heard the light rapping on the door at the front of the trailer behind him. And then he heard Isaac say, "My brother's been through a lot of shit since you came along, you know that? A lot of physical pain, a lot of emotional pain..."
Zac didn't hear the response.
"Yeah, he's here. It's not like he can really go anywhere right now. He can barely stand up."
After a response Zac once more couldn't hear, Isaac said, "You know, I should send you away. He doesn't need any more stress, he doesn't need to worry--"
"Ike, just shut the fuck up and let her in," Zac muttered, still unable to lift his head. "Just--just leave her alone and let her in."
Zac wanted to move as he heard Bessie bustle through the trailer, but he physically couldn't handle it. His head still throbbed and his stomach muscles were sore, as he had taken punches all the way around, from his sides to his belly. He listened to her as she stopped at the counter behind him and he heard the items as she placed them on the counter. "I brought some things with me, for all three of you," her sweet voice said, filled with authority, a tone that Zac wasn't used to. "There's fresh water, coffee, a fresh pie, and some of my mama's special lemonade that should only be had in moderation. I think there's some fruit, bread, and a few vegetables, too. Don't be afraid to help yourselves."
Then he lifted his eyes enough to hazily watch the medications land on the table in front of him. He saw bandages, a rag, a bottle of liquid and a bottle of some kind of medicine and his body melted with relief. He didn't know what was in the bottles and he didn't care. He would have taken anything, without question.
But he didn't see her. Instead, he listened to more things clang around on the counter before she finally approached him and moved the cup of tea from underneath his face. He sat up as she gently pushed his shoulder back and she tucked her dress underneath her and stepped over him, perching herself up on the table in front of him and letting her ankles dangle between his legs.
Completely powerless, losing all sense of strength, he let his head collapse into her lap and he closed his arms around her body as she ran her fingers gently through his hair. "Bessie," he breathed. "How are you here?"
"That doesn't matter," she replied softly. "What matters is I'm here."
"It hurts, Bessie," he found himself whining, but not caring a thing about what he sounded like. "Everything hurts."
"I know. I'm gonna fix it, don't you worry."
"I don't think you can. You can't fix it."
"I can and I will. Zac," she said, lifting his chin up so that he could look at her. "I love you. And I'm not going to sit around and let you hurt."
Looking up at her was like looking at an angel. His hazy vision created a soft glow around her under the dim light and she looked absolutely heavenly, almost like a dream. But she was real. She was very real and she was warm and she was soft and her mere presence was enough to comfort him and make him feel whole again. She may have sat before him in flesh and blood, but she was his own personal angel and she had saved his life. That, he believed wholeheartedly.
And she loved him.
He let his head collapse back into her lap and he closed his arms tighter around her. "Why is everyone trying to tear us apart?"
"Nobody is trying to tear us apart," she whispered.
"They are. They all are. Billy Connors and his cronies and your father and--"
"Mm-mm," she objected, lifting his head again. "Daddy isn't. You know that. Here." She paused and she gently placed a towel filled with ice against his face. "Hold this against your face. I know you're strong enough for that."
He did as he was told, the ice stinging momentarily before it began to feel good against his hot, throbbing skin. "Ice? Where did you get ice? We don't have any ice."
"I brought it from home. Mama let me carry it in her insulated container. Don't let me forget to take it back." Then she looked up at someone behind him. "Taylor, will you pour me a cup of fresh water, please? Thank you."
Apparently his brother had jumped on the request because he brought the water in a matter of seconds and Bessie reached behind her for the pill bottle. "Here. Daddy sent some pain medication--"
"Your father? He knows you're here?"
"Mmhmm," she nodded. "He let me drive the spare automobile and he helped me gather some of these things." Then she lifted his chin again. "Daddy and I talked. He's not against us. You really impressed him tonight, apparently. There have been some misunderstandings, but they're worked out. We don't have to worry about my father anymore."
Zac couldn't help the smile that pained his mouth as it spread across his face. Then he winced at the pain and he closed his mouth again.
"Stop trying to smile, I get that you're glad to hear that," she commanded. She opened the bottle and emptied a small, white pill into her hand. "Here, take this. It'll help the pain. And the way Daddy described it, it should help all the pain."
"What is it?"
She studied the pill in her hand. "Something with hydrocodone in it? The doctor prescribed it for when Daddy had bad back pain last year. Daddy says only take one because it'll put you on your...you know what. But the pain will go away. It might even help you sleep."
"Sleep," Zac groaned. "I like sleep. I could use some of that."
Taking the ice off of his face long enough to take the pill she gave him, Bessie took advantage and reached for the liquid bottle and the dry towel that sat beside her. He could smell the strong chemical scent that came from the bottle when she opened it and he watched warily as she dabbed the towel into it.
"What is that?" He asked her.
"It's an antiseptic. Mama says it'll help disinfect your cuts."
"All I hear is what your mama and daddy have to say about everything," he suddenly spat, cranky from the throbbing of his head and the pain in his sides. "What about what you have to say?"
Bessie's eyes widened and she blinked at him for a moment. Then she retorted matter-of-factly, "This is the first time I've ever doctored a man with a busted face, my love, I had to learn from somewhere. I could just sit here and let your skin rot off if you're going to be that way about it."
Zac had no response to that. Instead, he let her come at his face with the strong-smelling towel.
The moment the wet material touched his brow, it felt like someone was stabbing straight through his skin with a large, sharp knife. He couldn't help the instant reaction that came with it when he pounded his fists hard against the table and he growled violently through his teeth, "GODDAMN IT, WOMAN, ARE YOU TRYING TO FINISH ME OFF?"
Quickly she jerked the rag back and she closed her hand over her mouth. "I'm so sorry! I had no idea it would sting that much--"
"Shut up and take it, Zac," Isaac's voice shot out all of a sudden. "If she wasn't here, you'd still be moping in pain all over that table."
Isaac had a point. And Zac hadn't meant to react the way he did, he'd only been surprised by the sting of the medication. "I'm sorry," he said to Bessie. "I didn't mean it. I was just caught off guard, that's all. You can--you can do it again. Just be gentle. Go slow."
And then, to his complete surprise, Bessie raised a mischievous eyebrow and smirked at him. "Well, that sounds familiar, doesn't it?"
And, with that, she could sting and mar him with all the medication she damn well pleased.
_______________________________________________________________________________________________
Bessie's father wasn't kidding about the pills.
The one she gave Zac seemed to take effect rather quickly. She had disinfected his wounds, one on his brow, one on his cheekbone, and one at the corner of his mouth, and she'd bandaged him up. Now he smiled and he chattered nonsensically as Bessie and his brothers couldn't help but giggle and laugh at him. Feeling inspired by Zac's brand new seemingly euphoric state, Bessie had uncharacteristically decided to join him and distributed her mother's special lemonade amongst herself and Isaac and Taylor, while Zac requested more water.
"My mouth is so dry," Zac kept commenting. "Is this supposed to happen? Is my mouth supposed to feel like sand?"
"I'm sure it's a side effect of the medication," Bessie giggled as she served him water and sipped her own lemonade.
"But I feel great, it's working," he said happily. "Man, I don't feel a thing! I feel like a million bucks!"
"You sure don't look like a million bucks," Isaac commented as Taylor snickered from across the room.
"I look better than you," Zac shot back as he started to stand from the wooden bench he sat on.
Bessie stood up and caught him to steady him as he stumbled a little. "Are you okay?"
He smiled at her weakly, apparent that he'd spent the energy the painkiller had given him and was now getting drowsy. "I'm okay. I just want to stretch out a little, that's all."
He stepped around the small wall that had separated the table and the bench that sat beside it and she watched as he kicked off his shoes and he pulled the seat up from the bench. She watched in fascination as the underside of the bench folded out and formed a bed, just slightly bigger than the bench seat itself, and he plucked the pillow from underneath and fluffed it before he sat down and patted the space beside him at the head of it. "Come sit next to me," he said. "Make yourself comfortable."
"Okay," she said warily, as she tucked her dress underneath herself tightly and climbed in, sitting back and letting her legs dangle off the edge. The corner by the arm of the bench enveloped her and her eyes darted around uncomfortably. Sure, she had told her father she likely wouldn't be home tonight. But she'd never slept in such close quarters with three men before.
Zac smiled at her as he leaned over and slid her shoes off of her feet. Squeezing her stocking-covered toes, his grin widened before he stretched his body out on his stomach and sighed as he rested his head in her lap and wrapped his arms around her body where he could reach her. "That's better," he breathed. "You're so comfortable."
She glanced up at Taylor and Isaac, who made little effort to hide their stares, and she suddenly felt like Wendy Darling from the old novel, "Peter and Wendy," where Wendy went to Neverland and met the Lost Boys, a group of young boys who lived alone and had no mother and looked to her for support. She felt silly for being reminded of the novel, seeing as the Hanson brothers were so much older than her and there was no way she could be viewed as a mother figure to them, but in that moment, with the wonder in their eyes, it's what she felt like. She knew, deep down, that their stares were merely concern for their brother, but she couldn't help her overactive imagination.
"Bessie?" Zac murmured.
She looked down at his bandaged face and his heavy eyes and she smiled. "Yes, Zac?"
"I love you. Thank you for noticing me."
Her smile turned into a grin and her heart melted. "I love you, too," she whispered. "Thank you for waving to me."
"Will you do that thing with my hair?"
"Of course," she replied warmly.
Trailing her fingers slowly through his hair, one strand at a time, Zac was snoring lightly within the minute.
"Well. Looks like you're sleeping over tonight," Taylor pointed out. "I told you, he sleeps like a rock. You're not gonna move him."
"I'm sorry," she whispered. "I didn't mean to intrude, honest."
"Nah. You're not intruding. Your being here is a lot better than having to hear him whine all night long."
"You helped a lot," Isaac interjected quietly. "Your presence is much appreciated."
"That wasn't your reaction to my presence earlier," she pointed out.
"I was upset. My brother had come home beaten and bloodied and there wasn't a damn thing I could do about it. I didn't mean to take it out on you."
"Well, it's okay. Daddy says all of those boys are being charged. There were so many witnesses. I think nearly half of Tulsa was there."
Isaac stood up and began to raise the windows to let the night air flow through the trailer. "Well, I don't know about the two of you, but I'm getting some shut-eye. I'm exhausted."
"Yeah, I think it's time to call it a night," Taylor agreed. Then he smirked at Bessie. "Guess that means I can't strip down to my underwear like I normally do, huh?"
Her eyes widened in embarrassment. She didn't want that visual of him!
"Tay, shut up," Isaac shot at him as he loosened his tie and removed his vest.
"What?" Taylor replied defensively. "I'm just having a little fun. Am I not allowed to have fun anymore?"
"You can have fun without being inappropriate. Sometimes you don't know when to shut your mouth. A time and a place, Tay. We've discussed this."
"I can't wait until you go to sleep," Taylor spat.
"I can't wait until I go to sleep, either."
Taylor rolled his eyes and shook his head and then he looked across the trailer at Bessie. Before she knew it, he was coming for her and leaning over her, her heart pounding, not knowing what was going on. She felt silly for her silent reaction when he reached for the blanket and tugged it out from underneath Zac and draped it over him. Then he gripped her shoulder and moved her forward as he pulled the pillow out from underneath Zac and placed it behind Bessie's back.
"There," he said, pushing her back onto it, her back now grateful for the support. "It's nice that you're taking care of him, but somebody's gotta take care of you, too."
"Oh," she whispered, bewildered. "Um, thank you..."
By now, Taylor was already preparing the bench across from Zac's, and he was kicking off his shoes and adjusting the pillow under his head, still fully-clothed, to Bessie's relief. "Yep. Anytime. Goodnight."
"Goodnight," she said.
With that, Taylor snapped off the remainder of the lights, turning the trailer completely black, save for the moonlight that shone through one of the windows. All she heard now was silence as the crickets outside played in various string quartets and as Zac lightly snored on her lap. Crossing her ankles together, Bessie strung her fingers through Zac's hair again as she lay her head back and closed her eyes.