by Mia Ross
One black shoe and one navy.
Dad glanced over with a frown before focusing on the view out the windshield. “Something wrong?”
“I forgot something, but it’s no big deal.”
“Allie told me we’re stopping to pick up Ty,” he went on as they turned from their driveway into his. “I didn’t remember him being the religious type.”
She had no idea what type he was these days, so Morgan casually said, “The girls wanted to invite him.”
Her father hmmed in response but didn’t say anything more. They found Ty sitting in a willow chair on his front porch, boots crossed on the railing while he watched them drive in. Dad didn’t seem inclined to leave the truck, so Morgan opened her door.
“Us, too, Mommy!” Hannah insisted, bolting from her seat with Allie close behind. “It was our idea, and we want to ask him.”
They were running late as it was, but Morgan swallowed her protest because this detour seemed so important to her daughters. They were trying to rope in a lost sheep, after all. Certainly God could forgive them for being a few minutes late to church.
Clearly surprised to see the three of them, Ty got to his feet with a bright grin. “Mornin’, ladies. Where are you headed lookin’ so pretty?”
“Church,” Allie replied instantly, which amazed Morgan. The timid child seldom spoke first, usually letting Hannah take the lead in a conversation. It was another sign of how much this errand meant to her. Her impulsive approach seemed to falter, though, and Morgan braced herself for the withdrawal that typically followed.
To her astonishment, Ty went down on a knee to put him on Allie’s level, just the way Morgan did. The kind, compassionate gesture did something strange to her heart, and she took a deep breath to regain her usual composure.
“You like church?” he asked her in the gentle voice Morgan had heard him use with skittish horses. When Allie nodded, he smiled. “What do you like best about it?”
“Singing.”
Now, he shifted his eyes to Hannah, who’d been hanging back to give her sister the spotlight. “And what do you like best?”
“Sunday school. We get to do art projects and have cookies.”
Ty chuckled. “I like cookies. Chocolate chip are my favorite.”
“Me, too,” she agreed brightly. “Mommy likes oatmeal.”
Those hazel eyes drifted up to meet Morgan’s, a fond twinkle warming the flecks of gold. “I remember.”
In that single moment, it felt as if nothing had ever gone wrong between them. They were back in their good times, when it seemed like their love for each other would always be enough to get them through any obstacle life could throw at them. For one brief moment, Morgan almost believed they could have that again.
Almost.
Chiding herself for being so foolish, she got practical. “We’re running late, so hop in if you want a ride.”
“Thanks. That’d be great.”
This time, Morgan gave him the front seat and she shared the back with the girls. Thankfully, Dad kept Ty well occupied on the way into town, which left her with nothing to do other than enjoy the view rolling past the open windows. Mustang Ridge closed down on Sundays, so the only traffic was headed toward one of the three churches clustered around the town square.
In the center of the green space stood a monument to area soldiers who’d fallen since the Civil War, which had occurred long before Montana earned its statehood in 1889. Morgan had always thought it was considerate of the statue’s builders to include those long-ago infantrymen who’d died far from home defending the freedom they valued above everything.
In direct contrast to the somber message of the monument, on the side nearest the street was the playground that the town had funded and added to over the years. What had started as a few swings and slides had blossomed into a sturdy kid-centered compound with everything from rope nets to swaying bridges.
Over the top of it all was the donation from the historical society: a reproduction Conestoga wagon and two life-size wooden oxen. It gave the fun area a rustic Montanan flair, and seeing it up there always made Morgan smile.
Once they’d all piled out of the SUV and were headed up the front steps, Ty caught her elbow and tugged her aside.
“Hate to tell you this,” he murmured, “but you’ve got two different shoes on.”
Ordinarily, having him find fault with her for anything would’ve gotten her back up. But it was Sunday, so she bit her tongue and rolled her eyes. “I know. By the time I noticed, it was too late to go back and change.”
“You always hated being late,” he commented as they followed Dad and the girls into the small sanctuary.
“It’s rude,” she shot back instinctively, wishing she’d just pretended she hadn’t noticed the problem herself. Honesty might be the best policy, but sometimes it was just a hassle.
“You’ve never had trouble matching up your boots,” he pointed out, clearly refusing to let the matter drop. “Maybe you could try rubber banding your shoes together to make things easier on yourself.”
Considering the source, it wasn’t the worst suggestion she’d ever heard. She realized that he was actually trying to be helpful, so she let her annoyance go with a quiet breath. “That’s a good idea. I’ll give it a try.”
It took a few minutes to get to their seats, since everyone kept stopping them to talk about something or other. Between the horses and cattle on the ranch, there was plenty to discuss, but lately more people wanted an update on the conservancy’s efforts. Some wanted to help, others to make it plain to her that they opposed what she was attempting to do. One thing they all had in common, though. A strong opinion. Whether she agreed with them or not, she had to admire folks who had the guts to take a stand and refuse to shrink from a challenge.
“Man, this energy thing has really taken over the town,” Ty muttered, standing in the aisle to let the girls go ahead of him to sit near Jessie. “At the feed store, it’s almost as popular a topic as the weather.”
“People care about what happens here,” Morgan reminded him as she took a children’s Bible from the rack and passed it down for Allie and Hannah to share.
“Guess I kinda forgot what that’s like.”
Morgan glanced up at him and caught the pensive expression clouding his usually easygoing features. Was it really possible that the reckless cowboy she’d known for most of her life was maturing into the kind of thoughtful, caring man she could depend on? As she thought back over the weeks since he first reappeared, she couldn’t deny that he’d changed. Whether it was the injuries he’d suffered, or that he was simply mellowing with time, she couldn’t say for certain.
But he was definitely a different guy than the one who’d walked away from her all those years ago. Now that she had an explanation for his vanishing act, she found herself feeling something for him that she hadn’t anticipated. Understanding.
“It’s nice to be around people like that,” she agreed. “Being a gypsy on the rodeo circuit was fun, but being grounded here works for me, too. Except when I can’t find my other shoe,” she added with a grimace.
“If that’s your worst problem today, I’d say you’re doing just fine.”
He added an encouraging smile, and she couldn’t help returning the gesture. “You know all about tough days, don’t you?”
“I try not to think about it too much, but yeah, I’ve had my share.”
More than his share, she suspected, although she respected his attempt to make his ordeal seem more manageable than it must have felt at the time. Especially when he was on his own, far from Mustang Ridge, being cared for by strangers. Competent and compassionate, but strangers all the same. When she’d been in trouble, she’d headed straight for the ranch and the family she knew would love and support her, no matter what.
Ty hadn’t had much of that, she realized
sadly, even when his parents were still together. As deeply as he’d hurt her when he left, it occurred to her that he’d suffered nearly as much. For all these years, she’d assumed that he’d gone on to something—and someone—else that made him happy.
Not long ago, knowing that his decision had made him miserable would have given her some grim satisfaction. But now, it just made her wistful for what might have been.
Ty had never been one for church.
Summer Sundays were for sleeping in, followed by long rides and watching baseball on TV while he plowed his way through the week’s laundry and chores. While he was growing up, his family attended services at Easter and Christmas, more as a form of being counted in God’s flock than anything else. As a result, he didn’t have an opinion one way or the other on religion. If it worked for you, that was great. If not, that was fine, too.
But as he sat in that sunny chapel that he’d barely known during his younger days, listening to the Sunday school’s adorable rendition of “Jesus Loves Me,” he got a different view of the place and what it meant to them. He didn’t know any of the other kids standing up there, but they looked like a group of cherubs, dressed in their nicest clothes, doing their best to stay on key.
His daughters caught his attention, looking like miniature Morgans in their pretty blue dresses, with sunshine streaming in from the tall windows to light their faces. He’d just started getting acquainted with them, but they amazed him more every day. Hannah with her quick mind and army of dolls, Allie with her love of animals and incredible talent for drawing them. They truly were the best of Morgan and him, blended into two incredible children who deserved every bit of good that life could give them.
They were his girls, he mused sadly, but they didn’t know it. When Morgan had first made her proposal allowing him to spend time with them, he’d quickly agreed, believing that the limited arrangement would be enough for him. But as the weeks had worn on, it had become more obvious to him that being “good neighbor Ty” wasn’t going to cut it.
They were his children, and he wanted to be their father. All the way, for good or bad, because the family he’d always wanted was standing only a few yards away, just waiting for him to step up and claim them.
The trouble was Morgan. She’d made it painfully clear how she felt about that possibility, so for now at least, he put his longing aside and applauded while the kids took their bows before following their teacher downstairs for Sunday school.
“Joining the kids for cookies?” Morgan whispered while the pastor got organized at his lectern.
The guy Ty once was would’ve jumped at the opportunity to go hang out with the kids and enjoy some snacks. But he stopped himself. If he was going to prove to her that he was in fact “father material,” it was time to start acting like a grown-up. Most of the time, anyway. “I think I’ll hear what Pastor Bartlett has to say this morning.”
She didn’t respond, but the stunned look on her face was priceless. After a moment, it softened into something he hadn’t seen from her in so long, he’d forgotten what it looked like. Respect.
Feeling proud of himself for surprising the very unpredictable Morgan Whittaker, Ty settled back and prepared a few tricks he’d learned for keeping himself awake.
When Pastor Bartlett left the raised lectern area and sat down on the top step of the little stage, though, Ty realized he might have misjudged the modest-looking man. Resting his elbows on his knees, he sent a look through the packed church, pausing here and there to connect with people along the way. And when he began to speak, Ty felt himself leaning forward to catch whatever this quiet, patient man had to say.
“Sometimes,” he began in a pretty unremarkable manner, “we make mistakes. We’re human, and life can seem pretty random. When we get caught off guard, especially by circumstances not of our own making, we get rattled and make choices we regret later on. I know, because I’ve done that kind of thing myself. On occasion, I’ve been guilty of assuming that I knew what was best for other people, rather than allowing them to find their own way.”
As the preacher went on to describe some of his other faults, Ty noticed folks around him nodding slightly, as if his humble confession reminded them of their own past behavior. With Morgan sitting beside him, his own mind flashed back to the day he determined that he wasn’t good enough for her and took off. Thinking he was doing her a favor, protecting her from a lifetime of remorse, in truth he’d taken away her God-given right to choose for herself what she wanted.
And in a moment of inspiration, he understood why she’d been so angry with him for so long. Ending their relationship should have been their decision, not his alone. If only he’d talked it through with her, they might have been able to work things out. And he’d be sitting here in church with the family he’d always longed to have, instead of feeling like an arrogant fool.
While he was silently berating himself, Pastor Bartlett threw out a bit of hope to Ty and anyone else feeling the way he was right now. Standing, the preacher smiled at the people gathered for the service. “The good news for us is that God understands why we stumble, and He waits for us to realize what we’ve done wrong. He doesn’t abandon us, although it may feel like it at times. Like any good father, He stands ready to support us, if only we’ll ask Him for His help. For some of us, that’s tough because it requires us to look inside ourselves, acknowledge our failings and make changes to keep those things from happening again. It isn’t easy, but I can promise you that the rewards are worth the effort.”
Ty felt as if that sermon had been delivered to him personally, and judging by the reaction of many in the congregation, he wasn’t the only one who’d gotten that message. Normally, he was more impressed by actions than words, but there was no denying that this particular man had a knack for speaking to people in a way they could not only understand but also relate to on a very personal level.
“Man,” he murmured to Morgan as they stood for the final hymn, “he’s good.”
“He kept you awake,” she retorted with a smirk.
Yeah, he did, Ty thought in admiration. But more than that, he’d reached a part of Ty that he hadn’t thought much about before returning to his hometown like a beaten-down hound with his tail between his legs. He’d assumed that apologizing to Morgan would be the biggest thing he’d do before rebuilding his life, but now that he was getting to know his daughters, it was obvious that there was more to his journey than simply moving on.
Somehow, some way, he wanted the four of them to be a family. The challenge was getting Morgan to agree with him.
Chapter Eight
“Bye, Mommy,” Hannah said, hugging Morgan before giving her a sunshine smile. “I know you’ll do a great job telling those people in the government about our mustangs.”
“Thanks, punkin. I’ll try.”
Allie hung back a little, and Morgan didn’t prompt her to come say goodbye. It was mid-July, and somehow the conservancy had scraped together enough money for Ty and her to travel to Washington to present their case to Craig Barlowe’s Natural Resources Committee. They’d be gone for three days, which right now felt like an eternity for her to be separated from her girls. Even though Dad, Ryan, Jessie and Ben were all pitching in to cover her absence, she hadn’t been gone even a single night since they were born. The idea of taking a trip to the other side of the country without them was equal parts exciting and terrifying.
Once Hannah stepped back, Allie came forward, a rolled-up piece of drawing paper in her hands. Holding it up, she offered a rare smile of her own. “This is for you.”
Morgan had learned to respond quickly to her reserved child, so she immediately said, “Thank you, sweetie.” When she unrolled the page, she was truly amazed at the detailed picture her daughter had drawn of the wild herd that meant so much to all of them. Hunkering down, she pointed to one horse in particular. “Is this one your favorite?”
&nbs
p; Allie nodded. “She’s like Sadie.”
“She is, and I would’ve recognized her anywhere. You did a great job.”
“Hannah helped me with the flowers.”
As always, Morgan thought as she gathered both of them into her arms. Holding them away, she said, “I’m so proud of my talented girls. We Whittakers make a great team, don’t we?”
Both of them nodded, and she hugged them again, reluctant to let go. She had an important task ahead of her, but the fact that it was taking her away from them didn’t sit well with her. The single-mom effect, she mused sadly. The endless tug-of-war that went on between motherhood and her obligation to the larger world was always tough to manage, but today it was even more so.
Aware that she was sliding into the quicksand of self-pity, she was actually relieved when Ty’s truck pulled into the long driveway. Standing, she got a firm grip on her runaway emotions and shouldered her carry-on. Looking around the family circle who had come to see her off, she forced a confident tone. “That’s my ride. I’ll call you when we get there.”
“Weather looks good all the way east,” Dad told her, patting her shoulder. “You’ll have lots of prayers behind you when you make your presentation to the committee tomorrow.”
She knew he was behind that, and she smiled. “Thanks. That’s good to know.”
“Can’t miss,” Ryan assured her, his characteristic swagger on full display. “No matter where they’re from, folks know a good argument when they hear one.”
“Jessie and I are splitting rug rat duty,” Ben reminded her, flashing her one of his cheerful country-boy grins. “You can count on us.”
“I promise not to let him spoil them too much,” her sister chimed in, lightly elbowing him in the ribs.
“That’s what favorite uncles are for,” he protested in an injured tone.
“‘Favorite uncle’?” Ryan echoed in disdain. “Not in this lifetime, little brother.”
They were all laughing when, to Morgan’s surprise, Allie very clearly said, “No one’s a favorite. We’re a family.”
