As they drove to Lakeside Manor, Holly let the tears slide down her cheeks unchecked. Colt dug in the console and handed her a box of tissues.
Thirty minutes later—and it didn’t seem right that thirty minutes was all it took to change their lives and their family—Opal had a room at Lakeside Manor. They still had paperwork to complete and Holly would bring clothes and small personal items, but Opal was settled in room 205, a pretty yellow room with a view of the fountain.
“You can bring a bird feeder and place it outside the window,” the administrator told Holly. “Our residents find peace in watching the birds.”
Opal walked to the window. “Is that pond for me?”
“The fountain, Opal. And yes. Later today we will take a walk out there, when it’s a bit warmer. We’ll also make a necklace during craft time.” The administrator smiled at Holly. “There are no set visiting hours so you stay as long as you’d like. You can visit at any time and you can even take meals with your mother.”
“Thank you.” Holly joined her mother at the window. “Mom, I know this is difficult.”
“What is?” Opal asked, unsure. “I like to visit. As soon as lunch is over, we can go home.”
“Mom, I can’t take you home.” The words came out on a sob.
“Of course you can,” Opal argued. “You brought me here.”
“I know.” Holly reached for her mother’s hand and held it tight. “I’m sorry. I hope you’ll forgive me.”
Opal didn’t respond. Her gaze remained fixed on the fountain.
“Mom, you have to stay here. When I leave, you’ll stay. This is your new home. But we’ll visit. Dixie and I will visit you. We’ll make s’mores and have them for dinner.”
“That’s very bad for you,” Opal told her. “You should eat more, Holly. You’ve lost weight and you look tired.”
“I am tired, Mom.”
“You should get some rest.” Opal turned from the window and looked at her. “I’m sorry for calling the police.”
“You didn’t...” She shook her head. It would do no good to remind Opal of what had happened. “I’m going home now to get your clothes.”
“Okay. Make sure you come back to get me. I know I have a home. I don’t think I want to stay here.”
Holly hugged her mother.
“It’ll be okay,” Opal said. “Dixie is here now. You take care of her.”
“I will.” Holly made her way to the door where Colt waited for her.
She allowed him to pull her into her arms, even as she told herself she shouldn’t get used to it, to him being there for her. Yes, he had proposed but that had been his way of handling their shared custody of Dixie and not the kind of proposal a woman dreams about.
Every woman dreamed of forever with a man who loved and cherished her. Colt was good at making her feel cherished, but love was about more than feelings. It was a commitment.
Colt wasn’t good at commitment.
Chapter Eight
By Friday, Holly and Dixie had settled into a routine. Colt helped out by picking Dixie up from school and bringing her to the café. They were building their relationships, becoming a family. But to Holly, they weren’t a family. Colt still planned on returning to bullfighting, and Dixie missed Daisy and her life in Broken Arrow. Holly understood. Their daughter had lost the woman who had been her mother. She’d been taken from her home, away from everything familiar.
If she still seemed a little lost, that was only natural.
Holly had been doing research, trying to find the best way to help Dixie deal with her grief.
As she navigated the tables of the café, her mind focused on her daughter, she tripped over her own feet. The tray she carried tilted and the glasses and water pitcher tilted and slid forward. A hand shot out to steady her, but it was too late for the contents of her tray.
“Let me help you.” Colt released her arm and took the tray that she hadn’t dropped, setting it on a nearby table. The few customers who were in the café for coffee and late breakfast watched as Colt grabbed a towel. If the heat in her cheeks was anything to go by, her face was most likely turning a brilliant shade of crimson.
“This is embarrassing,” she murmured as she bent down to pick up the plastic glasses. Colt reached for a couple that had rolled away.
Her right-hand woman, Stacy, arrived with towels and a mop.
“Boss, let me deal with this. Why don’t you get a cup of coffee and something to eat?” Stacy gave her a steady, concerned look.
“I’m really okay,” Holly assured her employee.
“Uh-huh,” Stacy murmured with a doubtful look.
“What?” Holly asked as she sopped up nearly a gallon of water with the towels the other woman had arrived with.
“Nothing,” Stacy said as she mopped up the remaining spill. “I’m not saying anything.”
“Well, I’m saying something.” Colt knelt next to her and took the sopping wet towels.
Holly’s chest felt tight and she closed her eyes against the wave of emotion, of feeling lost, feeling...she squeezed her eyes tighter. She didn’t want to feel as if he was there to take care of her. She took care of herself. Always. That’s what she had to remember.
She opened her eyes and pushed to her feet, and he followed. They stood there in a silent stare down with witnesses.
The last thing she wanted to be was the afternoon gossip. She’d been that often enough in her life. This is why she lived a quiet life, the kind of life that didn’t give rise to speculation or rumor.
Colt’s expression turned tender as he gazed at her. He had wet towels in his hands. It was her perfect opportunity to walk away. But Stacy had finished mopping and she took the towels from him and handed him a dry towel for his hands. He used it, then took her by the arm and led her to the empty back dining room.
“Colt, too bad you didn’t have the same charm with that bull that got you down,” Chet yelled from across the café.
Colt stopped at the door to respond.
“Chet, if I had charmed that bull, I would have ruined him for his owner. He would have walked out of that arena and never bucked again.”
A lot of laughter followed the statement.
“You’re so sure of yourself,” Holly said as he sat down across from her. “Are you comparing me to a bull?”
“You are definitely not a bull,” he answered. “And Chet expects that kind of response.”
That made her wonder if she really knew him. Was he being who she wanted him to be, rather than who he really was?
“Stacy, can you get us an omelet?” Colt called out to the waitress as she walked out of the kitchen. “And hash browns.”
“Sure thing,” Stacy did a one-eighty and headed back into the kitchen.
“Are you ordering food for me?” Holly asked him.
He tipped his hat back, giving her a better view of gray eyes that danced with mirth. “Yep.”
She didn’t argue. It would be pointless, and now that she’d sat down for a minute, she realized she was hungry. She knew she needed to eat more. Her clothes were baggy, her face hollow. Every time Colt looked at her, she wondered if he saw the old Holly or the real woman sitting before him now.
“Holly, when was the last time you ate?”
It wasn’t a question she wanted to answer. She’d had dinner the previous evening and then she’d helped Dixie with homework before their nightly visit to Opal. This morning she’d gotten the café going, gone home to get Dixie ready for school and then stopped by to see Opal before heading back to work.
Colt removed his hat, ran a hand through his hair and replaced the hat. “From your silence I’m assuming you haven’t eaten today. You’ve got to take care of yourself. Not just for Dixie and Opal, but for you. I won’t always be here to make sure you eat.”
“I know that.
And I do eat.”
“I worry about you.” He said it tenderly and she felt tears close to falling. She blinked them away but she couldn’t undo the way his words touched her.
She wanted to sleep. She wanted to take time to get a pedicure or get her hair done.
Stacy arrived with the omelet, hash browns, biscuits and gravy. The plate was overflowing with food. “There you go, Hol, make sure you eat it all.”
“Bring him a plate. He’s going to have to help.” Holly smiled up at her waitress,
“You got it.”
“I had breakfast,” he informed her.
“You can eat more. You could always eat,” she said. The man she used to know could. She wasn’t completely sure about this man.
Holly was finishing the omelet when Colt’s phone rang. He answered it, looked concerned, then got up and limped away from the table, rubbing the back of his neck as he stood a short distance away. Holly watched as he glanced back at her, as if she was a subject of the call.
Minutes later he returned, worry lines appearing across his forehead. “Dixie isn’t at school. They said she was there for her morning classes and then they went to the library and now she’s missing.”
Holly pushed the chair back from the table and stood. “Let’s go.”
Holly headed for the kitchen. Stacy was going to need a raise, she thought as she hurried to find her waitress. And a promotion.
Stacy was washing a few dishes but she stopped when she saw Holly. “What’s up?”
“I have to go. The school called and Dixie isn’t there.”
“Of course you should go,” Stacy said, giving her a quick hug. “I know you’ll find her. Maybe she just needed some space.”
“Thank you.” Holly hugged the woman back. “I owe you a raise and a promotion.”
“Go on, we’ll be just fine here.” Stacy gave her a little push toward the door. “Jess Larson wants a job. If I get busy, I’ll call her in.”
“It’s only a few blocks to the school. Do we drive or walk?” Colt asked as they left the café.
“I think walk.” She gave him a careful look as he limped along next to her. “Will you be okay?”
He pounded his chest with a fist. “You wound me. Of course I’m fine. Each day gets a little better. So did Dixie seem off to you this morning? Did anything seem different?”
“Not really,” Holly said, slowing her pace as they turned onto the street that led to the school. “Of course she’s still sad. She misses her mom, her life. And Daisy. Do you think she’s run away, back to Broken Arrow?”
It hurt to think about, but it was a reality they had to face. Daisy had been a large part of Dixie’s life. In less than two months, they would sit down with a lawyer and decide final custody arrangements, and Dixie might very well choose Colt’s sister. Then what? Holly didn’t want to think about Dixie not being in her home or part her life. And Colt? No doubt he’d hook his camper to his truck and go back to work, traveling from rodeo to rodeo.
And Holly would be left alone.
She pushed the thoughts aside because right now she had to focus on today, on Dixie. She thought about that verse from Matthew, that today’s troubles are enough in themselves. No need to worry about tomorrow and something she couldn’t fix or change.
“I know she loves my sister, but Daisy is young and unsettled. She’s wild as a firecracker, as my dad liked to say.”
Colt reached for her hand. They walked past the park pavilion and he pulled her into the shade of the domed shelter.
“We have to keep looking,” she told him.
“You have to be calm so that when we find her, you’ll be reasonable.” He pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket and started to dab at her cheeks.
“Is that thing clean?” she asked as she grabbed it out of his hand, stopping him from wiping her face.
“Of course it is. I carry two. One for myself and one for damsels.”
“I’m a damsel, am I?”
“In need of rescuing,” he told her as he pushed a strand of hair behind her ear. “Wipe your eyes.”
She did, then she folded the handkerchief and slid it into the front pocket of her jeans. “I’m calm.”
“As much as can be expected. We should keep looking.”
He leaned in, his cheek close to hers. She thought he was going to kiss her, which made no sense. But then he took her by the shoulders and turned her around.
“She’s right over there,” he pointed.
Looking in that direction, she saw her daughter sitting under an oak tree, a big black dog curled up next to her. “Where did she find a dog?”
“I don’t know.” He took hold of her arm. “Let’s go get our daughter.”
Colt let her lead the way as they crossed the expanse of park. As they walked, she noticed the grass coming up was as green as emeralds. A perfect spring day, full of hope. But their daughter, curled up next to a stray dog, tears streaming down her cheeks, didn’t seem to feel that hope.
Dixie didn’t look up. She had her arms around the dog, and the dog shot them a warning look. Holly sank to the ground, sitting close to Dixie, pulling her into her arms and holding her tight.
“I miss my mom.” Dixie sobbed into Holly’s shoulder. “I try not to cry but I can’t help it. And I didn’t want to cry in school and have everyone see.”
Holly brushed Dixie’s hair back from her face. “You don’t have to hide your tears or the fact that you’re sad. You have every right to cry and to grieve your mom.”
“Dixie, promise us next time, you’ll go to someone in the school and tell them you need us,” Colt said as he leaned against the tree, his hand on their daughter’s head. “You don’t have to be alone. You have us. We’re all new at this, but we’re a family.”
Colt slid down to sit on the other side of Dixie and the dog. The three of them sat together under the tree. Struggling to find their way.
They were doing better than Holly thought. Dixie sharing with them, holding on to them, surely that meant they were becoming more than strangers trying to be a family?
* * *
Colt ran his hand over the head of the big dog that studied them but remained close to Dixie. He didn’t know what else to say to their daughter. He could make promises that things would get easier. He could promise her ponies. But even he knew that words and promises weren’t going to take her away pain. Time. Love. Understanding. Those were the things she needed.
“We were worried,” Holly said.
“I’m sorry. I just...” She shrugged. “I don’t know. It’s just that I feel like I don’t belong anywhere. I’m here but I don’t know if this is my home. I guess I wonder why you would want me now when you didn’t want me before.”
Her words struck hard. From the look on Holly’s face, she felt it, too. Neither of them had considered the pain and worry that Dixie had been feeling. They were all about her grief, but man, to be here with the two people who had given her up for adoption, thinking they hadn’t ever wanted her...
“You are wanted,” Colt said, not knowing exactly how to make her believe those words. “You are very wanted.”
“But you gave me away,” she countered. Her hand dashed away more tears.
“We weren’t very grown-up at the time,” Holly told her. “We wanted you. I promise you we did. I...”
He knew what Holly had wanted. She’d wanted them to be a family. But he’d been too selfish at the time to give her what she wanted.
“We wanted you to have more than we could give you,” he finished for Holly.
Holly drew in a breath and Dixie half climbed into her lap.
“Dixie, we wanted you then and we want you now.” Holly spoke gently, her cheek resting on Dixie’s head.
“I know,” Dixie mumbled against Holly’s shoulder, the dog moving in closer. “I jus
t miss...everything.”
“What do you miss?” Holly asked. “Is there something we can do to make you more comfortable?”
“I miss my old life. I miss my mom, my friends, my house, my stuffed animals.” She sniffled and sat back up, pulling the dog close again. “I miss Daisy. We used to go get pedicures.”
“We need to do more fun stuff,” Holly said, her face pale. “I don’t know why I didn’t think about that. We should do more fun things together.”
“It’s okay,” Dixie told her. “You’ll figure it out.”
“Where are your stuffed animals? The rest of your stuff?” Colt asked. He hadn’t even thought about that when he picked her up in Broken Arrow. She was eleven. She had things that she cared about, things that made her feel safe. Where were those things? He should have asked Daisy.
“I don’t know,” she whispered. “I think most of it is at Daisy’s.”
“I’ll find out and we’ll go get it.”
“We can?” She brightened up. “I have a blanket with pandas and I have a sloth stuffed animal. He’s my favorite. And all my books.”
All of her life packed up in boxes and taken where? She’d lost her mom. She shouldn’t have to lose everything that meant something to her.
Holly looked up, her brown eyes seeking reassurance from him, asking him to make this better for their daughter. He gave a quick nod. He would make sure. He only hoped this wasn’t going to be a promise he broke.
“Where’d you get this dog?” Holly asked as she stood, pulling Dixie to her feet with her. The dog also stood, slowly, stretching as he did. He was a huge animal, with a black shaggy coat and dark eyes that studied them as if he might have to hurt them if they weren’t careful with his new best friend.
“He was at the church and when he saw me, he came over to hang out with me.” Dixie hugged the dog. “Do you think he belongs to someone?”
“I’m sure he must. He looks well taken care of,” Holly gave the dog a pat. “We should try to find his owners.”
“Oh.” Dixie looked heartbroken.
“Let’s head over to the church to see what’s going on. Maybe they know whose dog it is.” Colt started to push himself to his feet and Holly reached over, giving him a hand.
The Prodigal Cowboy (Mercy Ranch Book 5) Page 9
