“That’s perfect, isn’t it?” Her mother’s tone made it clear she meant the exact opposite.
“I’m sorry.”
“Still not your fault. How old is she? I didn’t really see.”
“Twenty-six.”
“Two years before you. A year before Indigo.”
Skye was fairly certain her mother wasn’t talking to her—she was thinking through the dates. “If it helps—and maybe it doesn’t. Maybe nothing can. But if it helps any, none of us could remember anything that would have indicated . . . I mean, Azure doesn’t even remember Dad being gone for any long periods of time when she was four.”
Her mom nodded absently. “He was. She wouldn’t remember because I made a point of keeping the days full so she and Cyan didn’t notice. Wouldn’t ask. He was gone more than home for almost a full year. He had a job, he said. Some kind of factory work, but the details there are hazy. Anyway, he made this huge case about how we’d be happier at the campground near the ocean rather than the small town where the factory was. He sent money. There was always so much money—it was his excuse for leaving and taking the job. The pay.”
“Did you suspect anything?” Why’d she ask that? She didn’t want to know. Not really. But if it helped her mother talk things through, wasn’t it worth it?
“Oh, Skye.” Her mother cupped Skye’s cheek and gave her a sad smile. “Your father’s never been faithful. That’s not why I’m so upset. I knew when he was so adamant that marriage would never happen that it was because he needed the out. He’s a man of his word, you see? If he gives his word—like you do when you say vows in a wedding—well, that would have been the end of his extracurricular activities. And he couldn’t—or wouldn’t—do that. But he promised me. The first time we talked about his need for other outlets, he promised me two things. One, that he’d never get me sick. He’d be careful and responsible and not bring home disease. And two, that he’d only ever make a family with me. That’s the betrayal. All these years I believed he’d never broken his promises to me. It made it possible for me to rationalize the rest.”
What was Skye supposed to say to that? Her heart broke for her mom all over again. What must it be like to lower her expectations so far and still be betrayed? Unless . . . “Mom? You aren’t like that too, are you?”
“What? A cheater? No. No, for good or for ill, I made promises to your father that included monogamy and I’ve kept them.” With a sigh, her mom straightened and pushed up off the bed. “Come on, your grandparents are probably wondering why it’s taking you so long to call me to lunch. I’d just as soon not have to try and explain any of this to them.”
“Tell me you don’t think you can keep it a secret. That’s not possible.” Skye followed her mother down the hallway toward the main area of the house.
“Well, that’s up to you, I guess. I only know I’m not going to be the one to explain it. I’ll deal with your father, one way or another, but I won’t be having long, soul searching conversations with anyone about it. You can pass that along to your siblings, too. Save them the effort of calling.”
“Mom.”
She shook her head and fixed on a bright smile before stepping into the kitchen. “That smells lovely, Betsy. Will you write down the recipe? Sorry it took so long.”
Skye shrunk back as her mom continued to bustle around and help, acting as if nothing had changed. This wasn’t the family she thought she had. She wasn’t going to stay here and watch whatever went on between her parents after her grandparents went home.
Looked like she was heading back to Hope Ranch after all.
Now she just needed to figure out what she was going to do about Morgan.
“It was so nice to meet Indigo. Even under the circumstances.” Betsy glanced into the backseat as they made the turn onto the ranch driveway. “I hope she’ll come out like she said.”
Skye smiled weakly. The chances of her sister getting Wingfeather to stick around and take care of the animals long enough for Indigo to make any sort of visit to Hope Ranch were slim. Even the potential death of his wife’s father hadn’t convinced him to stay put. Indigo’s neighbor had called to let her know that one of the alpacas was out of the pen and wandering around the commune. “I guess we’ll see. It’s hard for her to find reliable help with the animals.”
“That’s a very careful way to put it.” Wayne grinned. “But we did pick up on the fact that things don’t seem to be going too well between Indigo and her partner. In fact, I’d say that was a theme of the trip. Your mom and dad looked like they were biting their tongues a bit, too. And I noticed you weren’t answering your phone, which makes me wonder what Morgan did wrong.”
Skye sighed.
Royal let out a sardonic laugh. “I hadn’t noticed the theme until you pointed it out. I did let Joaquin know that you’d gotten some good news from Mayo.”
“It’s not—Royal. That wasn’t yours to share.” Skye crossed her arms.
“Well, you weren’t sharing it and there are a lot of people who care and had been praying for you. I get that you didn’t want to talk to Morgan. I mean, kind of. I’ll say I get it in theory, people fight, right? But Cyan deserved to know. Maria, too. And Azure?”
“You can toss us into that list as well.” Betsy frowned at Skye. “Why wasn’t that a topic of conversation during one of the incredibly uncomfortable dinners instead of your parents trying to find creative ways to talk about absolutely nothing?”
Skye hunched her shoulders. “I have a diagnosis. It’s not like there’s a cure. I have a handful of things to try that might help moderate the condition. It’s not like any of that is stellar news.”
Wayne slipped the car into park and cut off the engine. “It’s still better than not knowing, and I’m grateful.”
His words were simple, but Skye was chastised. “I’m sorry, okay? There was a lot going on.”
When she didn’t continue, Wayne and Betsy exchanged a look before opening their doors and climbing out of the car. Betsy poked her head back in and pinned Skye with her gaze. “When you’re ready to talk, you know where to find us. Until then, we’ll just keep praying for all of you. I hope we’ll see you at dinner.”
The car doors slammed.
Royal jabbed her with his elbow. “Nice going.”
“Please don’t.” Skye leaned her head against the window. Had she messed everything up? This was what happened when she tried to do the right thing. It all ended up exploding.
“Hey. I love you. They love you. Morgan loves you.”
Skye jolted and turned to stare at her brother.
“What? I’m stupid and blind?”
“No. You’ve never been either.”
“Beyond that, you love him, too. So go fix things.”
“I don’t know if I can.” Her voice came out as a choked whisper. She didn’t want to end up like her mom and Indigo, turning a blind eye to the betrayal and hurt caused by the men they loved. Pretending that it was all okay when really it wasn’t. “I’m not even sure I should.”
“Then you should pray as you walk.”
Skye snorted. “Listen to you.”
“Am I wrong?”
“No. You’re not wrong. Thanks, Royal.”
“Don’t mention it.” He rubbed her shoulder then gave it a push. “Go. I’ll be praying for you too.”
She smiled in spite of herself. She’d never really believed her twin brother would say something along those lines. He’d taken their dad’s hardline stance against Jesus and run with it. So, since God could clearly work miracles in the heart of her brother—in the hearts of all her siblings—maybe He’d help her know what to say to the man she loved.
18
Morgan tossed his game controller on the couch and stared at the ceiling. Nothing worked. Nothing was fun. It was all pointless.
“Meaningless, meaningless.” He snickered and covered his face with his hands. He was losing it. Maybe whoever wrote Ecclesiastes had been, too. It wasn’t a comf
orting thought.
He wanted to talk to Skye. Thirteen days was a long time to go without any contact at all. At least Joaquin had spied to the best of his ability. Morgan knew she was okay. He knew she had a diagnosis. He knew her dad had a reasonably positive prognosis.
But he didn’t know how she was feeling about all of it.
He pushed off the couch and crossed to his little kitchen. He didn’t stock a ton of food—the Hewitts were fine with him taking lunch and any dinner he wanted up at the main house. And Maria was always going to be a better cook than he was. Still, there was enough to keep him full if he didn’t feel like company. Or if he needed a snack.
Morgan frowned at the contents of the fridge and slammed the door shut. He wasn’t hungry. He missed Skye.
He dropped into a chair at the kitchen table, lowered his head into his hands, and prayed.
The first tap at his door was quiet, almost hesitant. Then it became more insistent. Maybe it was Joaquin with another update from behind the front lines.
He pulled open the door and everything seemed to freeze. Skye. She was a little rumpled, her hair pulled into a messy knot on the top of her head.
She was gorgeous.
“Hi.”
Skye offered a weak smile. “Hi.”
“You’re back.”
“Yeah.” She tucked her hands in her pockets. “Can I come in?”
“Sure. Of course.” He stepped back to let her in before shutting the door behind her. “How’s your dad?”
Skye shrugged. “Home. It’s hard to understand what he says. He can’t walk very well even with a walker. It’s a long road ahead. He still hates God.”
“I’m sorry.” Morgan looked around the room. “Do you want to sit?”
She nodded and settled on the far edge of the couch. “How are things here?”
“About the same as always.” Morgan fought to keep a frown off his face. Were they all the way back to the beginning? Stilted conversation about inconsequential topics? No. Not if he got a vote. He took a deep breath. “I missed you. I’m sorry I upset you.”
“Are you?”
He nodded.
“Do you know why I’m upset?”
This was boggier ground. He’d put a lot of thought into their conversation and still wasn’t completely sure where it had all gone wrong. “I—not really. I tried to help you and you got angry and shut me out. So obviously I went about it wrong, but I don’t know what the wrong steps were.”
“Seriously?” She took a deep breath and turned away.
Morgan imagined her counting. “I’m still sorry. And I wish you’d explain.”
“I needed your help. You say you tried to give it to me. From where I’m sitting, you refused.”
“Refused? How did I refuse?”
“I didn’t know what to do and you sat there listing options! That’s not helpful!”
“But . . . why not? How can you make a decision if you don’t know what all your choices are? You lay them out, think through the pros and cons, and then choose. You asked me to help you figure out what to do. I was trying to do that.”
“I needed you to tell me what to do.” Her eyes filled. “There was so much going on—there still is, honestly. And it’s all so overwhelming.”
“I can’t do that, Skye. I can’t make decisions like that for you. No one can do that for someone else.” Morgan’s throat felt tight. This was the part of police work he’d hated the most. People looked to the cops for direction—but if the cop said the wrong thing, did the wrong thing—bam! Lawsuit. Or worse. “I love you, but you’re still responsible for yourself.”
“So you won’t help make decisions? What if I need help choosing between jobs? Or we’re trying to figure out what schooling decision to make for our children? Is that all on me?” Skye stood and paced to the far side of the room. “Seems like you’re getting off pretty easy on the taking responsibility thing.”
Morgan ran a hand through his hair. “That’s not what I said. And jobs? Kids? Those are decisions we’d share responsibility on, of course. But I’ll be honest, I probably would approach them the same way. You have two jobs to choose from? You lay out the plusses and minuses, pray about it, and choose. Same for schools. Same as what I was trying to do in the hospital. But I’m never going to choose for you on something between finding answers to your health and staying beside your potentially dying father. I’m not volunteering to be the one to blame if I encourage you to make the wrong choice!”
Skye blinked. “Why would I blame you?”
“Please.” Morgan grunted. “If I’d said, ‘I think you should go, Skye.’ And then your dad died while you were busy at Mayo, can you stand there and tell me you wouldn’t have blamed me for ‘making’ you go?”
“I can tell you I don’t think I would.”
“Or say I told you to stay. Then you do, and your dad’s fine, but Mayo can’t get you back in for another three months and that delay means more uncertainty and complications.”
“I wouldn’t have blamed you.”
Morgan shrugged. “You can say that, but we don’t really know. And the thing is, neither of the options impacted me. So it would’ve been me making a decision for just you. That’s what I don’t want to do. I want you to live your life the way God is leading you to live it. And if I can help and be part of that, that’s what I want, too. But I’m not going to be someone who tells you what to do. If you can’t accept that, I’ll understand. I won’t like it, but I’ll understand.”
“Are you breaking up with me?” Her breath hitched.
“No, Skye, I’m not. What I want is for us to be together. I love you. I want a future with you—I want those kids and school choices. But if you need someone who’s going to dictate how everything needs to be done, even when it’s not something that concerns him? Then I’m not your guy. I can’t decide that for you, either. I can only give you the options, tell you what I hope you’ll choose, and then let you figure it out.”
“In the hospital, you didn’t tell me what you hoped I’d do.”
“All I hoped was that you’d make a choice you could live with.”
She shook her head. “I’m trying to understand. I really am. But I can’t get past feeling that I needed your help and you wouldn’t give it to me.”
“I’m sorry. That wasn’t my intention and I didn’t mean to hurt you.” He rubbed his hands on his thighs. Should he say more? “In the interest of being one hundred percent honest, I didn’t appreciate you cutting off communication with me. I get needing time. I get being hurt. But we can’t fix anything if we can’t talk about it.”
Red washed across her cheeks. “Yeah, okay. That’s not my finest moment.”
He waited. Was she not going to apologize? “I’ll try to do better about giving my opinion, if you promise that you’ll take it as such.”
“Okay. Thanks.” She came back and sat on the couch, a little closer, but still not beside him like she used to. “I ended up telling my mom.”
“Skye, I want to hear all about that, I do. But I guess I’m not quite ready to move on.”
She furrowed her brow. “What do you mean?”
“Are you really not apologizing? Not promising to try and avoid the silent treatment? I’m not the only person here who needs to do better.”
“Wow.” Skye stood and crossed her arms. “I’m sorry I was hurt by your lack of concern.”
“Skye.” Morgan stood and mirrored her pose. “Come on.”
“No. You know what? My mom spent her adult life with someone who didn’t want to commit, I’m not making that same mistake.”
Wouldn’t commit? Where was that even coming from? He opened his mouth to ask but Skye was already closing the door behind her.
Morgan collapsed onto the couch. “That could’ve gone better.”
“Hey, Morgan.” Sophie ran her hand along Blaze’s nose and paused to talk to the horse before continuing to where Morgan measured feed.
“Sophie.
You have lessons today?” Had he forgotten that, too? He’d been scatterbrained since Skye stormed out Saturday night. He hadn’t been able to focus at all in church—though he was grateful the Hewitts went to a different congregation—and so had gotten roped into joining the single adults for lunch after. Which had meant a lot of deflection. Rude or not, he’d finally given up and left abruptly after eating. He’d thought he’d get a head start on chores and now he had to redo that work, because it had been completely wrong.
“No. I dropped by to see Wayne about my account. I’m getting inconsistent information from the bank, wanted to see if I could compare with him to make sure I don’t get behind on payments. He said you’d taken it over?”
“That was temporary, I thought. But yeah, I guess I have the most recent updates in the office. Come on back.” Morgan dusted off his hands and started back toward his office. Wayne wasn’t really expecting him to have taken over permanently, was he? He’d head down to the main house after clearing things up with Sophie and ask. Or maybe the correct phrase was explain how that was just not the case. He slid behind the desk and wiggled the mouse to wake up the computer. A little scrolling and he had a list of payments from Sophie displayed. “You want me to print what we have?”
“You can do that?”
“Sure.” He nodded to a little printer shoved in the corner of his space. “All the modern touches you could want right here in the barn.”
Sophie laughed. “The horses use the wifi at night?”
“Probably. Big jewel swapping game fans, I expect.” He clicked print and snagged the paper when it was done. “Sorry you’re having trouble with your accounts. Anything we can help with?”
“No. I’m sure it’s just a glitch somewhere.” She skimmed the printout and frowned. “Well according to this I’m paid up, so that’s something. I’ll keep an eye on it going forward, but if I miss a payment, will you let me know?”
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