Accidental Homecoming

by Sabrina York

  Oh, sure, she could have gone to the barn, too, but she was filled with remorse about overreacting when Emma hadn’t been in her room. She realized she needed to let go—a little, at least. Besides, Luke and Emma had a special bond she wanted to encourage.

  It took a lot of self-discipline to let them have their time together, but her patience was challenged by the fact that she didn’t have anything else to do. Other than her work and Emma, she hadn’t had much else in her life. There hadn’t been time for it.

  And now that there was time...what was she to do with it? She had no idea.

  She quickly discovered that if they were going to stay here, she’d have to find a hobby, or go utterly insane. Eventually, she found herself on the porch, staring out at a beautiful summer day.

  It was warm, but not too hot, and there was a pleasant breeze fluttering by. She sat on the swing, closed her eyes, dropped her head back onto a pillow and just listened. She could actually hear the wind here. It danced and rustled through the tall elms that shaded the yard. Oh, and the birdsong was lovely. That and the scent of newly mown hay. A cow lowed in the distance and somewhere a chicken squawked.

  A smile curled on her lips. Not a lot of that in downtown Seattle, for sure.

  As pleasant as it was, Lizzie wasn’t used to lounging around in the sunshine—or being away from her daughter, which made her uneasy—so she headed out in search of Emma. She wasn’t in the barn. She wasn’t in the house. She wasn’t in the yard.

  Lizzie tried very hard not to panic, but the thought of tagging her daughter with GPS did flicker through her brain.

  She finally heard an unmistakable laugh coming from the bunkhouse area, so she headed that way, trying to calm her heart by repeating the mantra “it’s going to be okay” over and over again.

  She spotted Mark in the distance and, as she came closer, she saw Emma standing at a large fenced-in area behind one of the cabins. And there, on the other side of the fence...puppies.

  Now, it wasn’t as though Lizzie disliked animals. She loved them. She really did. But animals were a high risk to children with suppressed immune systems. Lizzie had always kept Emma away from them.

  And now, here she was, Lizzie’s precious, fragile daughter, standing far too close to creatures that carried ticks and fleas and licked their butts and probably stepped in poop on a regular basis and tracked it everywhere they went.

  Her first reaction was to scream something very parental and yank her daughter away. But she had overreacted this morning; she didn’t want to do it again.

  Besides, Emma was better, she reminded herself again. The doctors had been clear that she could engage in most normal activities, as long as she was careful to wash her hands and take other precautions. The fact that Emma was on one side of the fence and Mark and the dogs were on the other should calm her panic. Shouldn’t it?

  Beyond that, Emma was in awe. Lizzie had never seen her daughter so happy. Never.

  “Look, Mommy!” she squealed. “Puppies.”

  Lizzie tried to hold back her smile in lieu of a stern glance, but she might have failed. “Adorable,” she said, coming to Emma’s side. Some of the older dogs trotted over to her and gave her a cursory sniff.

  “Isn’t she precious?” Emma pointed to the smallest puppy.

  “Here,” Mark said, handing Emma a dog treat. “Do you want to give her a cookie?”

  Emma grinned as she negotiated the delicate transfer of biscuit from hand to snout through the chain link fence.

  Lizzie forced her spine to relax. It really was a wonderful sight. She renewed her resolve to try to enjoy Emma’s newfound freedom as much as everyone else did.

  The delight on her daughter’s face was precious. It was worth the battle to hold her tongue and not call warnings all the time. Maybe, after a while, she’d get used to it.

  Still, the packet of antibiotic wipes in her pocket would come in handy when Emma was done here.

  “So, you named her Daisy?” Mark asked.

  “Yes. She looks like a Daisy, doesn’t she, Mommy?”

  Lizzie chuckled. “She sure does. How nice of Mark to let you name her.”

  Emma made a face. “Why wouldn’t I name her?” she asked. “She’s my dog.”

  “What?” Lizzie whipped her attention to Mark, who was watching Emma with hands on his hips and a grin on his face. When he saw Lizzie’s expression, the grin faded.

  “What?” he asked.

  “You gave her a dog?”

  “A puppy. Why not? I mean, the doctors said she was better, right?”

  Oh, good glory. Who knew that having relatives could be so annoying? “You just don’t give a little girl a puppy without asking her parents.”

  “Danny said it was okay.”

  Oh. Good. Glory.

  “Where is he?” she fumed.

  “Probably out in the back forty, fixing the fence with DJ.” Mark grinned at her. “Listen, I had a puppy when I was Emma’s age. It was a great experience. She’ll learn how to take care of her, walk her, feed her... She’ll learn responsibility, having a dog.”

  “But Daisy’s staying here, right?” She gestured to the fenced area, which she now realized was a dog run.

  “Sure, sure.” Mark nodded and Lizzie exhaled. “For a few more weeks. And then, she’ll move to the house.”

  “She’ll sleep in my room, Mommy! Isn’t that awesome?”

  Not.

  A volcano rumbled in Lizzie’s gut. “Emma Jean. You know what the doctors said.”

  The pout meant she did.

  Lizzie frowned at Mark. “Until she’s one year out, no puppy.”

  “How long is that?” Mark asked.

  To be safest? “December. If—and it’s a big if—the doctor approves.”

  “But Mommy...”

  “December. Emma! Remember what the doctor said. And Mark, don’t forget to sanitize her hands when you’re done!” With one more glare at Mark, Lizzie tromped back to the house where she could smolder in private.

  She found a modicum of distraction from her annoyance in the library, scanning the book selection. Unfortunately, there were not many children’s books. She’d have to do something about that if they stayed.

  DJ poked his head in the door and stilled when he saw her. As though he’d been looking for her or something. “Hey, Lizzie,” he said. “You a reader?” He gestured at the books.

  She raised an eyebrow. “I read.”

  “Oh, great. These books were Grandpa’s. He liked the classics. Said a good education was solid foundation for life. Made me read all of them.”

  She pulled out a copy of For Whom the Bell Tolls and opened the cover. The glorious scent of ink and must rose and she drew it in. She loved old books. Any books. And this one was a first edition. And signed. By Ernest Hemingway. What a treasure. She gently set it back in place. “I can see that. He had excellent taste.”

  “Yeah.” DJ glanced around the room for a minute then said, “Ah, hey. Lizzie?”

  “Mmm?”

  “You said you’re an accountant, right?”

  “Yep. Seven years.”

  “Listen, ah... Could you take a look at something for me?”

  What else did she have to do? “Sure.”

  Half an hour later, she realized she should have said no as she stared at the piles of files on DJ’s desk. The ranch finances.

  All of them.

  They went back to the fifties.

  DJ was prepping to have a company transfer everything into digital files and asked her if she would mind helping get things organized.

  She’d said, “Of course,” of course. She should have said no. This was a lot of work, but judging from the way DJ had skedaddled out of there as soon as she’d agreed, she’d figured out accounting wasn’t his thing. Like, at all.

 
Ah, well. It would keep her busy, now that Emma didn’t need her every moment of the day.

  With a sigh, she dug in.

  * * *

  Danny found Lizzie in DJ’s office surrounded by a mountain of paperwork. “Wow,” he said as he kissed her. “What’cha doing?”

  She made a face. “DJ asked me to go through the financial paperwork.”

  “Fun.”

  “Mmm.” She cracked her neck and stood. “I’m cross-eyed.”

  “I thought you loved putting things in order.” It was a joke, kind of.

  She didn’t appreciate it. “Luckily, your grandfather was a hoarder. He kept every receipt. Every one. At least that’ll make things a little easier.”

  Danny grinned. “Where’s Emma? I thought maybe the three of us could go on a walk. Explore a bit.” He winked. “There’s a pond not far—”

  For some reason, Lizzie whirled on him. “Did you tell Mark he could give her a puppy?”

  Uh-oh. It had seemed like a great idea at the time. Now, not so much. “One of his dogs had a litter. He’s trying to place them.”

  “Well, why didn’t you just ask for all of them?”

  He blinked. “Because I thought we should start Emma off with one.”

  She stared at him and he suddenly realized her suggestion might have been sarcastic. Damn. He’d screwed up. This was all so new to him. He hated to think he’d blown it on the first day. “Hon, I’m sorry if I overstepped...”

  She stilled, then shook her head. “No. You’re her father. You didn’t overstep so much as... How’s this? Maybe, next time, we can talk about it first if it’s something big like that?”

  Heat walked up the back of his neck. He scrubbed at it. “Sure. Okay.”

  “The doctor said not for a year. Remember?”

  “Of course. I just didn’t realize Mark meant he wanted to give it to her now.”

  She sighed. “I’m sorry for snapping, Danny. This is just a lot for me to deal with...and not just moving to a ranch, you know?”

  “I know.” He wasn’t sure he did, not really, but she seemed to need to hear that in the moment. He hugged her because she seemed to need that, too.

  “I’ve had to protect her for so long from so much. And now... Now she... I just...”

  “I know. I know.” What a helpful phrase. Too bad this time, it set her off.

  “No, Danny, you don’t know. I spent years worried about every single move she made—even before she got sick. It was always me saying no, always me being the bad guy. And then you get to give her a puppy...” She took a deep breath. “Look. I know you meant well. I really do. But it’s more important than ever to follow every single protocol every step of the way. The risk is too big.”

  “I’m really sorry, Lizzie. You’re so right.” He sighed heavily. “I have to be stronger—with her, everyone does. It’s hard to say no when Mark wants to give her a puppy, Luke wants to give her a bunny, Sam wants to give her a pony—”

  “Sam wants to give her a pony?”

  “I told her no,” he said quickly. “Point is, we’re all adjusting.”

  “We are.” She sighed and sent him a dark look. “Just know that when that puppy comes into the house, you are the one who’s going to have to take care of it. It is not mine.”

  “It’s Emma’s puppy.”

  “Fine. Emma’s puppy. But you take care of it when it cries all night or pees on the carpet, or barfs on the bed. Agreed?”

  “I, ah, okay.” It was probably the only answer. Definitely the right one, because she grunted and turned to make her way from the library out onto the porch.

  Emma was on the lawn, watching Mark attempt to train her new puppy, so they sat on the swing, his arm around her and her head on his chest, and they watched as he tried to teach Daisy to sit. Daisy preferred to jump up and try to steal the treat he was offering.

  Danny chuckled and held Lizzie closer.

  How wonderful was this? Sitting here with Lizzie as the afternoon sun slanted through the trees. Sure, he was tired after a long day on the ranch, but it was a good tired, one his body was becoming used to. The work itself was invigorating and varied. He really enjoyed every day.

  And now that Lizzie and Emma were here...he wanted this forever. He glanced at her, wondering how she felt about it. If this was as satisfying for her as it was for him, this kind of life. He wished he had the courage to just come out and ask her, but he knew he should probably wait.

  It was definitely too soon to do something stupid like propose.

  But, ah, that was what he wanted. He wanted—needed—her to be his. His wife. His.

  Lizzie shifted. A sudden dampness touched his shoulder.

  His breath froze. Aw, hell. Was she crying?

  “Lizzie,” he said, tipping her face up to his. “What is it?”

  She stared at him, tears coursing down her cheeks. She shook her head and something in his chest clenched.

  “Lizzie?” Did she really hate this place so much? Had he read everything wrong? Why was she crying?

  “Oh, Danny.” He hated that her voice wobbled. But then she smiled. A smile of gratitude that shone through her eyes and warmed his heart. “It’s j-just so won-won-wonderful,” she said through a sob. “Sitting here. Just wa-watching her pl-play.”

  Yes. It was. Wonderful.

  So why did it make him wonder when the other shoe was going to drop?

  Chapter Twelve

  The next morning, after another night in Danny’s arms, Lizzie headed to DJ’s office to keep working on her project. She munched on Maria’s delicious mantecadas and sipped rich coffee as she organized the financial documents. Things were starting to come together, but there were a few mysteries.

  “How’s it going?” a deep voice asked. She glanced up to see DJ had poked his head into the office. Just his head. Nothing else. In case the dark powers of accounting should suddenly try to suck him into the void. The guy must really hate paperwork.

  “Good.” She shot him a smile. “Slow, but good. I have to suspect your grandfather didn’t like this end of the business, either.”

  Big, gruff DJ barked a laugh. “I s’pose not. To be honest, we’re both the outdoorsy types. More at home on the back of a horse. This kind of stuff gives me the heebie-jeebies. But let me know if you need more help or explanations for stuff.”

  His grin was so engaging she had to respond in kind. “Okay. But I think I can figure most of it out. I mean, his notes are pretty good.” Most of the time. Some of the regular payments in past years were well-documented. Some, however, were questionably vague. When she came across these, she set them aside. “There is something you could help me with...” She riffled through the piles until she found the file marked only, and mysteriously, PD. “Ah. This one.”

  DJ stepped into the room and took the sheaf of papers and flipped through them. His brow furrowed. “These go back twenty-five years.”

  Lizzie nodded. “Yeah. The large payments were issued on January first of each year, but I found a couple more, here and there, for different amounts.” She shrugged. “No coding, so I have no idea what they were for. Any idea what PD stands for?”

  DJ shook his head. “And this ain’t chump change.” He flipped through some more papers. “Huh.”

  “Find something?” Lizzie asked.

  “Yeah. Looks like the last payment was made about a year ago. Just before Grandpa got sick.”

  “So whatever this payment was for, it wasn’t paid this fiscal year.”

  “Right.” Mark shook his head. “But we haven’t had any bills or invoices for this amount.”

  “And there’s no invoices or receipts in this file. Everything else has provenance.”

  “Just set it aside, I guess. We’ll deal with it if it comes up.”

  “Okay.” But even as Lizzie mark
ed a fresh manila folder with the letters PD, she had to wonder what on earth this could be.

  After DJ left, she was quickly reabsorbed into the project and worked clear through to lunch, when Sam came to drag her from her dungeon.

  “You can’t work all the time,” she said.

  Lizzie snorted and glanced at Sam’s dusty jeans. “You do.”

  Sam grinned. “I like my work.”

  “Well, so do I.”

  “I don’t see how anybody could like that,” Sam said as they entered the kitchen, where the family usually ate their casual meals. Dorthea was there, sipping on tea. The empty soup bowl indicated she’d already eaten.

  “Hello, Grandma,” Sam said, giving her a kiss and easing a plate of biscuits closer.

  Maria smiled at them. “What can I make you?’ she asked.

  “I can make lunch, Maria,” Sam said, opening the fridge and staring into its depths. She sighed.

  “How about a nice grilled cheese?” Maria suggested.

  “Oh, yes. That would be perfect.” Sam glanced at Lizzie. “How about you?”

  “Grilled cheese sounds perfect.”

  Maria’s eyes lit up. “There’s some Beecher’s cheese in there,” she said. “Do you know it?”

  Lizzie grinned. “I love Beecher’s.” It was a local brand, handmade in Seattle. She and Emma had once gone to the Pike Place Market to see it being made right there in the restaurant.

  “Excellent.” Sam grabbed a pan and started melting butter.

  The smell made Lizzie’s mouth water. She was hungrier than she’d thought.

  “Crystal and Jack are coming over this afternoon,” Sam said as she grated the cheese.

  Lizzie smiled. She remembered Crystal from her visits to the B&G, but hadn’t yet met her son. “That’s great.” It would be nice for Emma to make a friend.

  “It’ll be fun. Don’t you think so, Grandma?”

  Though Sam tried to engage her, Dorthea simply wasn’t in the mood to chat today. In fact, she sat at the table, silent, and sipped her tea. Lizzie gave her a refill, but there was no response to that, either. But then her face suddenly broke into a wide grin.