The timing was bad. That was all it was. It had to be all it was. Please, Jesus, let that be all it was.
“You all right?” Skye looked up from the screen of her phone and smiled. “Did I thank you for driving?”
“About ten times. I’m happy to do it. And I have a list of photos and questions to ask your sister Indigo for Joaquin, so it’s even ranch business.” Although Morgan was fairly sure Joaquin was annoyed that he wasn’t the one making the trip. But the first group of campers started Monday and Joaquin and Tommy needed to be at the ranch. This was their busy time. Wayne could pinch hit on the horses for a couple of days, but he couldn’t take over all the tasks that Joaquin managed when the camp cabins and lodge were running. “What are you reading?”
Pink flared across Skye’s cheeks. “Romance novel.”
Morgan’s eyebrows lifted. “Interesting. I wouldn’t have pegged you as the type. How many women who like first person shooters also read romance novels, do you imagine?”
“You’d be surprised.”
“I guess I would. I also wasn’t sure that was something believers would read.”
Skye huffed out a breath. “I used to read the kind you’re talking about, but as it happens, there’s a very rich selection of romance that embodies Christian values.”
“Ah. Amish.” Morgan nodded. “My mother loves those. Beverly someone.”
“That’s one sub-genre, yes. I happen to prefer contemporary, although there are some good historical authors out there as well. Not to mention the sweet and clean market that’s really opening up right now. That’s romance without a faith element but also minus the cringy parts.”
Who knew? “Huh. What’s this one about?”
Skye shifted in her seat, looking distinctly uncomfortable. “This is book two in the series. It’s three roommates—guys, if that matters—who live near Washington DC. This one is a reunion romance—so the guy is realizing that his physical therapist is actually the woman he fell in love with in college. They were camp counselors together. She’s been the one that got away since then and now that he’s doing PT for a knee injury he got at the end of the first book, they’re dancing around whether or not they’ll be able to rekindle their love.”
Morgan found himself more interested than he would have imagined. “And will they?”
“Of course. It’s a romance novel. But they’ll have their issues along the way. I mean, this girl changed her name and completely disappeared. That’s a lot to have to uncover, right?”
There were a lot of reasons someone might go that route. When he was a cop, he’d done his share of taking missing person reports. When the person in question was an adult, sometimes he’d had to explain to the family that adults were allowed to disappear. If they weren’t in danger—or a danger to others—the police could do a little, but they couldn’t expend a ton of resources chasing down people who just wanted to get away and start over. “Yeah. Can be. So could you forgive someone who did that to you? Ghosts you completely and then, bam, suddenly back in your life?”
“It’s not something I’ve ever wondered. You’re not planning to disappear, are you?”
He laughed. “No. That I’m not. Just curious.”
“Probably not. I guess if the reasons were right . . . but I’m not sure what those reasons would be. But I’m not likely to end up the heroine of a romance novel any time soon, either, so it’s kind of a moot point.”
“Fair enough. You read a lot of romance?”
She wiggled her hand back and forth. “It’s not all I read. I like basically everything—except the aforesaid Amish. I know that’s probably terrible.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know. Everyone seems to love it. It’s probably amazing. I just haven’t been able to make myself try one. Anyway, suspense, sci fi, mystery—I love a good police procedural. And not all Christian, though I try to stick to that for romance because of the squick factor you mentioned.”
He laughed again. “I’ll let you get back to it. I figure we’ll stop for lunch in another hour or so, that work?”
She nodded.
Morgan glanced back at Royal again. The man seemed completely absorbed in whatever he was listening to on his phone. Should he attempt to engage him in a conversation? Do something to improve his mood? Or at least try?
Skye reached over and rested her hand on his leg.
Morgan looked over.
“He’s okay. Or he will be. He needs time.”
Morgan took her hand and wove his fingers through hers. “All right. I’ll let it alone.”
He eased the car to a stop at the curb and eyed the little house the GPS told him belonged to Skye’s parents. It wasn’t special from the outside. He rubbed Skye’s shoulder, waking her. “We’re here.”
“Oh.” She wiped the corners of her mouth and glanced out the window. “I’m not sure what I expected, but this isn’t it.”
Morgan chuckled. “That’s right along the lines of what I was thinking. Royal?”
“Huh?” Royal shifted, blinking his eyes as he, too, woke. “Oh. Thanks.”
Morgan pushed open the car door and stretched. Seven hours in the car was enough for anyone. He was grateful it wasn’t any longer, where they’d be tempted to split the drive into two days. He glanced at Skye and blood thrummed in his veins. He wanted to pull her into his arms and kiss her.
“Get a grip, man. She’s my sister. You’re at my parents’ house.” Royal punched Morgan on the arm as he passed by.
Morgan rubbed his shoulder. Right. Besides which, he was going to do right by Skye. She mattered. He looked across the car and found her watching him. “Ready?”
“Almost.” Skye held out her hand. Morgan walked closer and took it. “You know what you said last night?”
He’d said a lot of things the previous night, but he figured he had a good enough idea which specific thing she meant. Morgan nodded. “Yeah?”
“I love you, too.” She eased up on her toes and pressed her lips to his. “Having you here already makes this better.”
“It might not be too bad.”
Skye gave a short, sardonic laugh. “Please.”
“You don’t have to bring it up.”
“I do. You know I do. And even if you don’t, my siblings all agreed that we should.”
“You talked to them?”
Skye nodded. “Group text. No secrets in this family.”
Morgan lifted his eyebrows.
“Well. No secrets among the kids, at least. And since I—we—were coming here anyway, we got the nomination.”
He pulled her close and kissed her temple. “We’ve got most of tomorrow, too.”
“Right. I’m not going in guns blazing, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
“I wasn’t worried.”
“You two coming, or should I just go ahead?” Royal stood on the front porch with his arms crossed.
“Hit the bell, Royal.” Skye shook her head and tugged Morgan along.
The door flew open and Skye’s mom squealed. “You’re here!”
Royal flailed a little in her embrace before his arms came around her and he lowered his head to her shoulder. “Hi, Mom.”
“I missed you, baby.” Skye’s mom patted Royal’s back, her expression turning to one of concern as he lingered in his embrace. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah. Yeah of course. I just haven’t hugged my mom in a while.” Royal gave a saucy wink and stepped back. He glanced at Skye.
She stepped forward. “Hi, Mom.”
Another tight embrace, this time between mother and daughter. When her mom stepped back, Morgan felt her gaze land on him. “And you’re Morgan. It’s so nice to meet you.”
“Mrs. Hewitt. Thanks for having me.”
“Elise, please. I’m glad we get a chance to meet you. I don’t think we’ll meet Azure’s young man before their wedding. So this is a nice change.”
“Mom—”
“What? Oh.” Elise la
ughed. “I’m not implying you’ll get married. Although, it does seem to be going around. Your brother’s wedding was nice. Come in and let me get you a drink. I don’t imagine any of you are in a hurry to sit down.”
Morgan chuckled and followed them into the house. It was very Southwestern—from the stucco outside to the tile floors, arched doorways, and exposed beams in the great room. The décor, however, was a mixture of everything. A fat Buddha sat in one corner by a tabletop waterfall. Old license plates decorated one of the walls and framed post cards another. Despite the eclectic nature, it somehow seemed cohesive and welcoming.
“Where’s Dad?” Royal dropped his backpack beside the sofa and looked around. “This looks nice, Mom. You’ve settled in.”
“Oh, he went out. I’m not sure where. He’s been doing that now and then—I think there’s a small part of him that misses the bus. You know how restless he gets.”
Skye covered a snort with a cough.
“That doesn’t sound good.” Elise laid her wrist on Skye’s forehead. “Let’s get you that tea. Dad’ll be back for dinner, I’m sure. Now, I figured you and Morgan could share the guest room and Royal could take the couch?”
“No, Mom. I—” Skye shot Morgan a plea for help.
He hadn’t thought through the accommodations. It didn’t seem right to make Royal and Skye share a room, but what was the other alternative? He didn’t want to share a bed with Skye’s brother. “I don’t mind the floor. We could give Skye the guest room and Royal, you can have the couch. One night on the floor won’t kill me.”
Elise blinked. “Oh. Right. What was I thinking? Jesus.”
“Mom!” This time it was Royal.
“That wasn’t swearing. It was remembering Skye’s preferences. And now yours, too?” She shook her head. “Don’t tell your father, please? It might just kill him.”
Morgan watched as Skye and Royal glanced nervously at one another. “I could get a hotel room, if that’d be more comfortable for everyone.”
“No!” Skye took a deep breath and stuffed her hands in her pockets. “Please don’t. Mom, doesn’t Dad still have that camping cot? That would have to be better than the floor.”
“Of course. That’s a fantastic idea. It’s in the garage. Do you want to go look for it while I get the tea? It’s just through there.” Elise pointed to a door off the kitchen.
“Sure. C’mon, Morgan. Dad loved his camping gear. We’ll get you set.” Skye took his hand and half tugged, half dragged him out to the garage. She pushed the door closed and leaned against it. “I’m sorry. I didn’t think.”
“Hey, it’s fine. Even if we don’t find a cot.” Morgan wasn’t going to do anything to make this visit tenser than it already was. “Is your dad sick?”
“You caught that too?” Skye shook her head and started peering at the half-organized shelves and cabinets along the walls of the garage. “I’m pretty sure she was joking.”
Morgan nodded and joined in the search for camping gear. He really hoped Elise was kidding, because if finding out Royal loved Jesus was really a potential death stroke, there was no way he’d survive having his infidelity exposed.
15
Skye tiptoed into the living room. It was still dark even though her mom hadn’t put curtains up over the sliding glass doors. She’d always been a fanatic about letting sunlight in. It was just shy of six in the morning, and Skye figured that was close enough to a reasonable time to go ahead and give up on the idea of sleep.
Because sleep had not happened.
Royal was sprawled on the couch, one bare leg poking out from under a blanket, his arm curved up over his face. Why didn’t he wake up sore? If she spent even an hour sleeping like that, she’d be miserable for a week.
She let her gaze drift over to Morgan. He lay like a corpse, arms folded neatly on his chest, eyes closed. He let out a soft whiffle, not unlike the noises his horses made, as he exhaled. All he needed was a cowboy hat over his face and he’d look like someone catching a few winks out on the range. At least to her.
Skye fought the urge to go over and kiss him. Just because she couldn’t sleep didn’t mean no one else should. And right now, she wanted coffee more than her next breath. She’d showed up at her grandparents as an occasional coffee drinker—happy to have a single cup in the morning but also fine if she didn’t. Now she was closer to a convert. Although she didn’t need it when she slept well. And excess caffeine still did a number on her heart rate.
She stopped short in the kitchen doorway.
“Morning.” Her dad’s whisper barely reached her. He swiped to turn the page of whatever he was reading on his tablet then looked up and smiled. “Sleep okay?”
“Not really.” Skye had a hard time meeting his gaze. Was it better to talk to him alone? Her siblings all agreed it needed to be addressed—and they’d talked about having sort of an impromptu family meeting. Maybe this was better. “If I get a cup of coffee, can I talk to you?”
“Sure, baby. What’s up?” He clicked the button to turn off his tablet and followed her with his eyes as she crossed to the carafe and poured.
That was one of the best things about her dad. And the worst. If you asked for—or needed—his attention, he gave it fully. With hands that only shook a little, Skye carried her mug over and sat across from him at the 1950s style Formica and steel table. “You know how Royal makes videos, right?”
“Sure. My son, the YouTube star.” Dad grinned a mile wide. “It’s not something I ever would have landed on as a career, but it seems to be working for him.”
She nodded and blew across the top of her drink. “So he got a new sponsor. They make DNA kits. He’s never hidden the fact that he has a twin, so the company thought it would be fun publicity to see what the differences were between twins. That kind of thing.”
“Okay. That sounds fun?”
Skye studied her dad. Did he not see where this was going? What did that mean? Had this woman—Jade’s mother—not told Dad about the baby? That wasn’t what Jade said in the introduction, but Skye didn’t know Jade. She knew her dad. Or at least she’d always thought she did. “In addition to the basic ancestry data and potential medical problem information—”
“Oh. Did that give you an idea of what might be wrong?” He frowned. “Maybe your mother wasn’t supposed to mention it, but she was worried about how sick you’ve been.”
“No.” Skye shook her head and fought to get back her train of thought. “No, that’s why I’m going to Mayo. I didn’t think a DNA kit was going to unravel mysteries all the doctors I’ve seen so far haven’t been able to. But this kit, it has one other checkbox. It’ll let people whose DNA shows a familial match make contact if you turn it on.”
If she hadn’t been looking for a reaction, she would have missed the loss of color and tightening of her dad’s jaw. “Oh?”
“Dad.”
He turned away, pressing his lips together. “Have you told anyone?”
Skye fought back a hysterical laugh. “Royal did his, too. So yeah. Then we figured we’d been hacked or something, so we talked to Cyan and . . . ended up having a conversation about this on our sibling group text. Dad, look at me.”
Slowly he turned back, his expression bleak.
“How could you?”
“I don’t expect you to understand. It really isn’t any of your business.”
“Isn’t it? I have a half-sister that I’m just finding out about. One who’s older than me but younger than most of my other siblings. So somewhere, in the middle of what we all thought was a wonderful, fun, happy childhood, you were off making a whole new family.”
Dad’s hands balled in his lap. “Leave it alone, Skye.”
“I don’t know how to do that. This woman—Jade—my sister wants me to reach out to her because her mother died and she’s not sure about her father’s family.”
Dad winced and turned away again, his voice a strained whisper. “She died?”
“Cancer, apparently.�
� That answered one question. Kind of. He wasn’t still in touch with them—hadn’t stayed in contact. Was that better or worse? “How long has it been, Dad?”
“I’m not having this conversation with you.”
“Why not?”
His fist slammed down on the table, rattling the cups and sending coffee sloshing over the side. “Becaussse—”
Skye frowned and pushed back from the table, moving to stand in front her Dad. If he wasn’t going to make eye contact, she’d force the issue. His mouth drooped. So did his left eye. “Dad?”
He said something, but Skye wasn’t sure what. She was ready to ask him to say it again when he toppled out of his chair and smacked the floor.
“Oh no.” It was a strangled whisper. Skye took a deep breath and screamed, “Morgan! I need help!”
Seconds that felt like hours passed while Skye cradled her Dad’s head in her lap. Morgan skidded into the room, Royal hard on his heels and the sleepy shuffle of her mom’s feet coming up from behind.
“What’s going on?”
Morgan stepped out of the doorway, his phone in his hand. “What’s the address here?”
Skye’s mom just stared.
“Elise.” Morgan’s voice was calm and commanding. “I need your address for the 911 operator.”
As if in a dream, she muttered the house number and Morgan relayed it into his phone.
Mom dropped to her knees beside Skye and brushed a hand over Dad’s hair. “Martin? Come on, honey, this isn’t funny.”
Skye took her mom’s hand and squeezed. “Mom. I’m sorry. We were just talking and . . . he’s not playing.”
A tear dripped down Elise’s cheek. She wiped it away impatiently. “Of course he is. He’s a big joker.”
“Has he done this before?” Morgan squatted beside them and laid his fingers on Dad’s neck. He met Skye’s gaze and gave a slight nod.
Skye’s breath whooshed out. Some kind of pulse. That was positive. She tried to pray but everything jumbled in her brain.
Hope for Tomorrow Page 12
