Cherished

by HELEN HARDT

  Her cheeks flush that adorable pink. “You wanted to tell me? Something?”

  “Don’t act so surprised.”

  “You’re usually such a closed book.”

  She has no idea. “I was pretty open last night, I think.”

  Her cheeks pink further. “When you said you love me.”

  I don’t respond.

  “Can I go with you?” she asks.

  “Why would you want to?”

  “To support the man I love,” she says. “Why do you think?”

  Surprisingly, I don’t hate the idea. But…no. I need my father with me. He’s the only one who…

  Who understands.

  Except maybe he doesn’t. I still don’t know any details of what befell him. And it occurs to me.

  Never once has Ashley mentioned her father.

  Perhaps she’s the one who will understand better than my father, who knew his father.

  Do I dare ask?

  “Ashley…”

  “I won’t get in the way,” she promises. “I just don’t… I don’t want you to be alone, is all.”

  I draw in a breath. “Ashley, you’ve talked about your mother. Tell me about your father.”

  She bites her lower lip.

  “Ashley…”

  “I don’t talk about him.”

  “I understand. But if you want to go with me, I need to know if…” I shake my head. “Oh, hell. It doesn’t matter anyway.”

  “You’re right,” she says. “My father doesn’t matter at all.”

  Her countenance is…different. Her usual vibrancy has taken a vacation. I want to press her, but how can I? Knowledge of my birth father notwithstanding, I’ve shared so little of who I truly am with this woman. For her own good as well as mine.

  “You may come with me if you’d like,” I say, surprising even myself.

  More of a surprise is that I actually want her there. By my side. I have no emotional attachment to Floyd Jolly, but he’s still a part of me. A physical part of me the way Talon Steel isn’t.

  She smiles, her vibrancy returning. “I’ll go to the house and shower. When do you want to leave?”

  “In an hour, if possible.”

  “Sure. No problem.” She stands and drains the last of her juice from her cup. “I’ll be back before then. You should call your brother.” She gives me a quick kiss and then runs out the back door and up the pathway.

  She’s right. I need to call Donny. And I need to call Dad. But first, the hospital.

  To find out whether my father is dead or alive.

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  Ashley

  I sprint—even wearing sandals—to the main house.

  I shouldn’t feel so jubilant, given that a man has had a heart attack and is in the hospital, but if this is the catalyst that can bring Dale and me closer, I can’t help feeling pretty good.

  Laced with the joy, though, is the fact that I didn’t answer his question about my own father.

  Not that I owe him any explanation. He’s pretty closed off himself. But he did ask, and I didn’t answer.

  I try not to think about my conception. In fact, until a few weeks ago, I thought my father had died when I was young.

  Which isn’t wrong. He did die when I was young. When I was two, to be exact.

  My father died in prison.

  But that’s not the story my mother originally told me. I heard a story about how he died in a car accident, leaving us destitute, and several years later, we ended up on the streets.

  It was a big fat lie, but when I learned the truth, I understood why my mother told it.

  Recently, she sat me down and told me I had a right to know where I came from, and I’m still numb about the truth.

  I haven’t let myself think about it. Until now.

  Dale asked about my father, and the truth is—

  My father was a rapist.

  A serial rapist.

  I’m a product of a rape.

  Think about it tomorrow.

  My mantra when it comes to unpleasantness, but I have to face it. Dale asked me about my father, and I owe him the truth.

  My mother was right to tell me, but it’s not something I want to talk about.

  To anyone.

  Especially not the man I love.

  I don’t want him to see me as tainted in any way.

  Not that I feel tainted. I’m the same person I always was. I know that, and I truly feel that inside. My mother may not have been able to give me much, but she gave me enough love for two parents. And she may think I have my head in the clouds for chasing a career in something as bourgeois as wine, but still she loves me and always will.

  I reach the main house.

  “Done,” I say aloud.

  I’m done thinking about the rapist who fathered me. He was caught, and he got what was coming. Prison isn’t kind to rapists. He was beaten and killed, among other things. An eye for an eye, apparently.

  Done thinking about that now. I’ll consider telling Dale tomorrow.

  I walk into the ranch house through the back door. “Hey, Darla.”

  Darla looks away from her rolling pin. “Miss Ashley, good morning.”

  “Anyone home?”

  “Mr. Talon has already left for work. Miss Jade is getting ready, I think.”

  “Okay, thanks.”

  Just as well. I don’t particularly want to explain where I’ve been. But maybe I should explain where I’m going.

  I walk toward my bedroom as Jade emerges from the master suite at the end of the hall.

  “Good morning, Ashley,” she says.

  My cheeks warm. She’s not stupid. She knows I didn’t spend the night here. Better to dive right into what’s happening now.

  “Jade, I’m glad you’re still here. Dale’s birth father had a heart attack, and I’m going with him to Grand Junction. I thought you should know.”

  Jade goes still. “Oh my. Is he okay?”

  “We don’t know. Dale’s calling the hospital. I’m just going to shower and change, and then we’re heading out.”

  “I should go talk to him,” Jade says, smoothing out a slight wrinkle in her blazer.

  I nod. “He’s at home.”

  “I have to be in court in an hour.” She sighs. “I’ll call Mary. My son comes first.”

  “Mary?”

  “The assistant city attorney. She should be in by now. Thank you for telling me.”

  “Of course.”

  She waves absently as she rushes the other way, cell phone already at her ear.

  I enter my bedroom and hope I didn’t just make a fatal mistake. Dale may not want to talk to his mother.

  Freshly showered and clothed in jeans and a silk blouse, I knock on Dale’s back door. Penny spies me through the glass, panting.

  “Hey, girl,” I say.

  A few seconds later, Dale clomps into the kitchen and opens the door. He looks…uncomfortable.

  Which probably means Jade is still here.

  “Is your mom here?” I whisper.

  He simply nods, his expression stoic. Crap. He’s probably angry with me.

  Jade whisks into the kitchen then. “Ashley, good. You’re here. I’ll let you two be on your way.” She steps onto her tiptoes and kisses Dale’s cheek. “Call me later, honey.”

  “I will,” Dale says. “Have Dad call me when he can.”

  “Absolutely.” She walks out the back way and up the trail to the main house.

  “I’m…” I begin.

  “What?”

  I’m sorry I told your mom? I can’t say that, because I’m not really sorry. She had a right to know.

  “Nothing.”

  “Let’s go,” he says, petting Penny.

  I eye her water bowl. It’s nearly empty. “She needs water.”

  Dale rakes his fingers through his disheveled hair. “Right. I was going to fill it up and then my mom showed up.” He picks up the bowl.

  “So…your mom…” I
say.

  “Means well,” he says, setting Penny’s bowl down.

  She eagerly laps up some water.

  I’m not sure how to respond. Luckily, I don’t have to.

  “Let’s go,” Dale says.

  We head out and get into his truck. He’s quiet Dale now. Stoic Dale. Which means it will be a long, silent ride to Grand Junction.

  I settle in.

  Chapter Forty

  Dale

  I turn on the radio to listen to news of the fires. Colorado is a desert climate, and fire happens nearly every year. This year, we’ve just come out of a drought, so it’s a little less worrisome, but a few days ago, a big blaze started in the Pine Gulch north of Grand Junction. So far, Steel Ranch isn’t in danger, but we have to stay ahead of the game by having all information.

  Dad and his brothers are really good at keeping their land free from anything that could kindle a wildfire, but we still have to watch carefully. This year, with such a great grape crop, I’m determined nothing will be an issue.

  Plus, it keeps me from having to talk to Ashley.

  A half hour with my mother drains me. She’s wonderful, I love her, and she means well, but… Sometimes she just tries too hard.

  By the time she showed up at my place, I’d already called Dad and filled him in, and then the hospital. Floyd was still alive as of then, though he was in the ICU and no one had any information on his prognosis.

  Finally, I turn off the radio and fill Ashley in.

  “At least he’s alive,” she says.

  I don’t know how to respond to that. Honestly? I don’t really care if he’s alive or not.

  Except that somewhere, deep inside, a little part of me does. Yeah, he’s a jerk for abandoning Donny and me, but his DNA lives inside me. He’s a part of me. And frankly, if he’s prone to heart attacks, that’s something I need to know. Now I’ll at least have half of my parental medical history, and I’ll have to minimize my risk of heart attack.

  I can’t help a soft scoff at that thought. I eat a lot of beef. That’s a lot of saturated fat. Of course I also drink a lot of red wine, which lowers cholesterol. At least some expert said something to that effect once. Who knows what to believe?

  Finally, I pull into the hospital and hand the truck off to the valet. Ashley and I go inside, where I query the volunteer on duty. Armed with my father’s whereabouts, I lead Ashley to the elevator that will take us to the floor that houses the ICU.

  Ashley grabs my hand and entwines her fingers through mine.

  I soften a little. Her small hand is engulfed by my large one, but at least I know how to hold it now. It gives me comfort. Not that I need comfort at the moment. Or do I?

  The elevator dings, bringing us to the floor. She and I walk hastily to another volunteer.

  “I’m here for Floyd Jolly.”

  “And you are?”

  “Dale Steel. He’s my birth father. I’m his emergency contact, apparently.”

  “Just a moment, please.” She taps her fingers on her keyboard. “He’s under Dr. Larson’s care. I’ll buzz her to come out and talk to you as soon as she can.”

  “Is he…still alive?” I ask.

  “As far as I can tell, yes.” The volunteer smiles. “So that’s good news.”

  I nod. I guess it’s good news. All those years of tamping down all my emotion, and now I don’t have a clue how to feel about this man. My birth father. My abandoner.

  Ashley tugs on my arm. “Let’s sit. Do you want anything? I can find you a cup of coffee somewhere.”

  I don’t want any coffee, but it will give Ashley something to do so I won’t have to talk. “Thanks. That would be great.”

  She squeezes my hand before dropping it and walks out of the waiting area.

  I plunk down on a chair. A display of magazines sits on the table in front of me. Cosmopolitan. Yeah, no thanks. Woman’s Day. Nope. Esquire. Still a hard no, though it’s better than the other two. No Agriculture Weekly? No Food and Wine? I sigh and grab my phone. I can at least catch up on emails.

  “Mr. Steel?”

  I nearly jump out of my chair when a woman holds out her hand.

  “I’m Dr. Larson.”

  I stand. “Dale Steel. How is Mr. Jolly?”

  “It’s lucky you got here when you did,” she says. “Any later and he’d already be in surgery. He has two coronary artery blockages, and he didn’t respond to other treatment, which means we need to do a triple bypass right away.”

  I inhale. “I see. And what is his prognosis?”

  “Most patients do quite well, but I won’t lie to you. There are risks.”

  “What kind of risks?”

  “Bleeding, infection, memory loss. Sometimes kidney issues or stroke.”

  “I see.” My tone is apathetic. I don’t know how to feel. I can’t feel.

  Ashley walks toward us carrying a large paper cup. “Any news?”

  “Doctor, this is my…friend. Ashley White.”

  Ashley holds out her hand. “Nice to meet you.”

  “My pleasure,” the doctor says. “I’ll let Mr. Steel explain what’s going on. I need to get to the OR.” She pulls a mask over her face and rushes through the double doors out of the waiting area.

  Ashley hands me the coffee. “What’s going on?”

  “Triple bypass surgery,” I say in a monotone.

  Her eyes widen. “You okay?”

  “Yeah.” I sit back down and place the coffee on the table in front of me.

  Ashley sits next to me. “How long will he be in surgery?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “She didn’t tell you?”

  “I didn’t ask.” I should have asked. If my true father were in there, I’d have researched this on my phone and asked all the right questions.

  Ashley fiddles with her own phone. “Looks like between three and six hours.”

  I sigh. “There goes this whole day. You don’t have to stay if you don’t want to.”

  “Are you kidding?” Then she frowns. “I mean, you’re my boss, so if you want me to get back and work, I will.”

  “Do what you want,” I say.

  “I want to be with you.” She grabs my hand once more. “You shouldn’t be alone here.”

  “My mom offered to take the day off and come,” I say. “I told her no.”

  “What about your dad?”

  “I told him no as well.”

  That response seems to surprise her. “Then I’m definitely staying. I get that this guy’s a stranger to you, but you shouldn’t be alone.”

  Her words have a tone I can’t quite place.

  Then her vibrancy returns. “You can dock me a day’s pay. Except that I’m not paid. So I’ll be happy to work late the rest of the week. Or work this weekend. Whatever you need.”

  I let out a scoff without meaning to, knowing I should keep the following thought to myself but saying it anyway. “I never thought we needed an intern. You’re superfluous.”

  It’s not untrue. We don’t need an intern. We never did. Still, now isn’t the time to bring that up. Ashley is here, and I love her. If Uncle Ry never offered her the internship, she and I wouldn’t have met.

  Which may have been best for both of us.

  Definitely best for her.

  She drops my hand and picks up the copy of Cosmopolitan.

  Yeah, I fucked this up. Again.

  Chapter Forty-One

  Ashley

  I admit it. I’m a Cosmo girl. The magazine is like crack to me. I can’t resist the juicy stories written by readers about their most embarrassing sexual encounters. More than once, I’ve considered submitting one of my own. My sexual past is filled with embarrassing stories. Like the time during the summer before my sophomore year of college. I hooked up with a UPS guy one Saturday afternoon while my mom was working. I was in my room reading when she got home.

  She knocked on my door and stuck her head in. “I’m home,” she said. “I brought takeout.”<
br />
  I closed my book. “Sweet. I’ll be right down.”

  She gazed downward for a split second and then said, “Sounds good. Be sure to pick up that candy wrapper on the floor.”

  Candy wrapper? I hadn’t been eating any candy. I jumped off my bed and—

  “Oh, shit,” I said aloud.

  The dude’s condom sat on the middle of my floor.

  At that point in my life, I was already pretty experienced. I always practiced safe sex, and never once did a guy fail to take care of his used condom. I thought it was something they all did. After-sex etiquette, or whatever. Apparently not this guy.

  Yeah, I never saw him again.

  I grabbed a tissue and disposed of the candy wrapper in the trash can.

  My mother never mentioned it again. She was probably relieved to know I used condoms.

  I always thought that story might be good Cosmo fodder.

  Today, though, I stare at the words without reading them. They may as well be written in Swahili. The letters blur together and make no sense to me. I shuffle through the pages of the magazine, trying to find something that might take my mind off Dale’s cross words, when I come across an article that piques my interest.

  “When He Won’t Open Up.”

  I tilt the magazine away from Dale so he can’t see what I’m reading. Not that he’s even looking my way. I’m trying to give him the benefit of the doubt. His birth father is in the middle of open-heart surgery. That’s a big deal for anyone. Not sure how I’d feel if it were my own birth father, the serial rapist, but…

  God, both Dale’s and my lives are fucked up in their own way.

  I read the title again.

  “When He Won’t Open Up.”

  I doubt the article is talking about an adopted guy whose birth father is in the middle of cardiac bypass surgery. Still, I’m here for the duration, so it’s worth a read.

  First point—Be direct.

  Well, duh. Can I be any more direct with Dale?

  Second point—Open up to him about something.