And he’d struck too close to the truth for Wade’s comfort. Dylan couldn’t understand what he’d been through with Lizzie. She’d been a spirited, happy soul when he’d met her, and he hadn’t been able to stop her slow spiral downhill. Shouldn’t a man be able to save his own wife?
How could he bring another woman into his life, knowing he’d failed one already? It was bad enough Maddy had him for a father. It might be true she could use a mother, but he didn’t trust himself enough to put another woman at risk.
“Abigail!” Aunt Lucy looked up from the Western doll in her hands. “I didn’t expect you today.”
“Hitched a ride into town with Wade.” Abigail hugged her aunt.
Aunt Lucy settled back into her rocker and picked up her needle and thread. “Where’s Maddy?”
“She’s at Olivia’s house.”
“Ah, Shay’s girl,” Aunt Lucy said. “That child looks so much like her mom at that age. Shay lived with me awhile, you know, when she was eighteen.”
“I didn’t know.”
“Felt bad for her, what with her upbringing. Then when that McCoy boy broke her heart . . .” She tsked. “Her parents turned her out for a few months.”
“That was kind of you, to take her in.”
“Poor thing. So brokenhearted. I don’t think she ever did get over that boy, even after she married.”
“She seems pretty strong now.” Abigail noticed the layer of dust coating the display cases. She was sure they hadn’t been dusted since she’d done it two weeks earlier. She found the duster and went to work.
“You don’t have to do that, dear.”
“Might as well make myself useful.”
“How are you and Maddy getting on?”
“I love that girl. And I feel for her, having lost her mom so young.”
“She’s precious.”
“We’re starting a vegetable garden, so we’ll see how that goes. I’m teaching her to cook some simple dishes, and yesterday I helped her make something for her dad for Father’s Day tomorrow.”
“That’s very thoughtful. I’m so glad Maddy has you for the summer.”
“You don’t feel neglected? I’ve been feeling guilty leaving you all alone.”
“I’m not alone!” She gestured to her polyester-stuffed family. “I have all my girls to keep me company.”
“Uh . . . yeah, that’s true.” Abigail swept the duster across the doll shelf, careful to avoid hitting “the girls.”
“I just hope you’re getting enough rest. Your mother won’t be happy with me if you’re more worn to a frazzle when you go home. What’s that on your forehead?”
Abigail touched the spot, which was still a little tender. “I had a fall a few days ago—it’s nothing.”
“A fall from where? Is that a scuff on your cheek?”
“From a horse.” Abigail gave a sardonic grin. “Leave it to me.”
“You are doing too much!”
“No, no, I’m really not. Exercise is good for me—I just need to learn how to stay on the horse. I think I’ve got the hang of it now.”
Aunt Lucy narrowed her eyes behind the thick glasses. “Well, I don’t like it, and I don’t think your mom would either.”
“I appreciate your concern, but I’ll be fine.” A change of subject was in order. “I hope you’ll pick me up for church tomorrow. I promised Maddy I’d help her fix a picnic for her dad after church, but I can come over later in the afternoon.”
“That sounds wonderful, dear.”
“Do you need help around the house? I could mow or clean or whatever you need done.”
“That’s sweet, dear, but I keep up the cleaning, and a high school boy mows for me. I’ve got it covered.”
Maybe her aunt was as capable as she’d always been. But there was the matter of her forgetfulness and, okay, her habits of talking to inanimate objects and planting plastic flowers.
“How’s business?” Abigail asked.
“We’re pretty slow here, aren’t we, girls? But I’m sure it’ll be just fine.”
Aunt Lucy always looked so serene. Even in the face of what had to be a financial difficulty. “Maybe we can do something to help drive business.”
“Everyone in town knows I’m here, and there’s not much I can do to bring tourists someplace they don’t know exists. Don’t worry, child. God will provide. All I can do is remain in Him and keep making my dolls.”
Remain in Him . . .
“John 15:5.” Abigail pulled her ring from her finger. “That’s the Scripture on the ring Dad gave me when I was baptized.”
Aunt Lucy took the ring and traced her nubby fingertip over the engraved vines. “It’s a nice reminder. Your daddy was a wise man.”
“Yes, he was.” Abigail slipped the ring back into place and resumed dusting. She hadn’t thought about the words of that verse for years, but she still remembered them. I am the vine; you are the branches. If a man remains in me and I in him, he will bear much fruit; apart from me you can do nothing.
Had she remained in Him? If she was honest, she knew the answer, and it wasn’t one that would’ve pleased her dad. Was Aunt Lucy’s peace the result of remaining in Him?
Abigail finished dusting and gave the register a good cleaning while she and Aunt Lucy caught up on the happenings in town. By the time Abigail checked the clock, she realized almost an hour had passed. She was probably holding up Wade.
15
Abigail wrapped the chicken salad sandwiches and placed them in the tote bag with the tub of warm beans, watermelon slices, cans of soda, and place settings.
She handed Maddy the bag. “Okay, all set. I put extras in there in case your dad is especially hungry.”
Wade glanced up from where he was putting on his boots. “And I am. It smells great.”
“Maddy, don’t forget the you-know-what.” She winked. “You two have a great time.”
Maddy’s face fell. “You’re not coming?”
Abigail looked between Wade and Maddy. “I thought you’d want to spend the afternoon with your dad.”
“I do, but I want you to go too.” Her sad eyes pulled at Abigail.
“Maddy,” Wade said. “It’s Abigail’s only day off.”
The last thing she wanted was Maddy thinking Abigail only saw her as a paycheck. Plus, it would give her a chance to talk to Wade. “I’m happy to go if you want me along. That is, if your dad doesn’t mind.”
His lips pressed together, and Abigail was sure he did mind. He shrugged anyway. “Suit yourself.”
“Yay!” Maddy said. “I’ll be right back.” She ran to retrieve her dad’s gift.
Abigail pulled an extra soda from the fridge, torn. She wanted to please Maddy, but Wade seemed unhappy about the change in plans.
“Sure you don’t mind having me along?” she asked.
He stood and grabbed his hat from the peg near the door. “Not at all. I’ll get the horses saddled.” Wade slipped out the screen door, and it slapped quietly into place.
Well, obviously he minded, but if he wasn’t going to be forthcoming about it, served him right if she came along.
Maddy trotted into the kitchen, cradling the gift against her stomach, and they joined Wade by the barn. Soon the horses were saddled, and the three headed past the barn and toward Maddy’s favorite swim hole, a spot she called Boulder Pass.
Maddy chattered as they rode. Abigail mostly focused on staying in the saddle and using the right commands with Trinket. Wade looked over his shoulder every few minutes, checking on her.
Abigail watched father and daughter riding side by side and thought how lucky Maddy was to have her daddy. The sight of them together made her miss her own father. Miss the things they used to do, miss his notes, his quick wink across the table when Abigail and her mom were arguing over some trivial thing.
He would’ve been proud of the way she’d listened in church this morning. The pastor had preached on fatherhood, and tears had stung Abigail’s eyes twice.
Then the pastor talked about God the Father and compared the two roles. She’d never considered how earthly fathers planted the seed of authority and unconditional love in a child’s life. How that relationship should mirror the heavenly Father’s love.
She’d felt proud of her own father as the pastor spoke. She missed him so much it still felt like an empty ache in her middle even after all these years. She wondered if Maddy felt the same way about her mother. Maybe not, since she’d been so young and had so few memories. That in itself was sad.
It took thirty minutes to reach the spot where the river turned shallow around a wooded bend. Boulders, big and small, stood sentinel in the bubbling stream. The day was beautiful, sunny and midseventies, but the direct rays had heated her skin. She wondered how Wade bore the jeans and long sleeves during the hottest days of summer.
Abigail had developed a mild headache in church, but it worsened on the ride, and she wished she’d taken some Tylenol.
They dismounted and tied the horses. Abigail snapped out the quilt under a weeping willow, then she and Maddy set out the food and tableware. A fresh breeze blew, bringing the fragrance of pine and grass. Clean mountain air.
Wade sank onto the quilt, shrinking its size by half.
“Present first!” Maddy said after they were seated on the quilt. She handed her dad the gift, wrapped in silver foil they’d found in the attic and topped with a blue bow.
“What have we here?” Wade received the gift, smiling at his daughter.
“You have to open it to find out.”
Wade loosened the dozens of pieces of tape sealing the package, then peeled back the paper to reveal a picture she’d drawn. It was good for an eleven-year-old. Wade wore a cowboy hat in the picture, and she’d drawn a five o’clock shadow on his jaw with the side of her pencil. Maddy was in the picture beside him, smiling, her hair in a ponytail, a few penciled-on freckles dotting her nose.
“Wow, Maddy, I didn’t expect this. This is—this is just great.”
Wade tugged his hat, a gesture of discomfort, Abigail was beginning to realize. He was touched by his daughter’s effort. Abigail wondered what the girl had done for previous Father’s Days. Maybe her other nannies hadn’t encouraged her to make him something.
“Abigail helped me.”
“Just with the proportions. It’s your drawing. She’s pretty good, eh, Dad?”
“Didn’t get it from me. Even my stick figures don’t look like stick figures.”
Maddy leaned over Wade’s shoulder, looking at the picture. “Was Mommy a good drawer?” The question was cautious.
Wade cleared his throat. “Maybe so.” Wade held the picture up. “Think I’ll put this on my desk. What do you think?”
Maddy nodded, obviously liking the idea. She was all smiles, soaking in her dad’s attention, but Abigail had noticed how quickly he’d changed the subject. Didn’t he see it was important for Maddy to remember her mother?
Abigail passed out the plates, and they helped themselves to the food. Wade bragged on how tasty it was, and Maddy glowed under his approval.
“Abigail’s teaching me how to cook.”
“Well, just some basics,” Abigail said. “A girl needs to be able to feed herself.”
Maybe she had misjudged Wade. He clearly loved Maddy. Maybe he was just unsure of himself.
Abigail took in his manly form and strong jawline, hardly able to fathom that could be true. But men could be clueless when it came to relationships. Maybe he just didn’t know how to be close to his daughter, how to communicate with her.
Or maybe he felt guilty about her mother’s death.
The thought was so out of context with the quiet moment that Abigail discarded it. She didn’t want to think about Wade’s past or the ramifications of it. It was a beautiful sunny June day, and she was enjoying it with a sweet little girl and her dad. She would leave it at that.
They finished lunch, ate the watermelon, and had a seed-spitting contest, which Wade won soundly. Maddy stripped down to her bathing suit and tiptoed through the grass to the river’s edge.
“You coming?” she called to them.
“In a minute,” Wade said.
“I don’t have a suit,” Abby said.
“You can roll up your pants. It’s shallow at the edge.”
“All right. Let me pack up first.”
Wade stretched out under the tree and crossed his feet at the ankles. With her own head throbbing, a nap sounded great, but she didn’t want to desert Maddy.
Wade tipped his hat over his face.
“Naptime?” Abigail began packing up the leftovers.
“Just resting my eyes.”
Abigail smiled, taking the opportunity to let her eyes roam down his long, muscular form. “My dad used to say that during Sunday afternoon football, right before he let out a big snore.”
“I don’t snore.”
“That’s what he said.” Abigail put the last of the food into the tote bag and set it to the side. She pulled her knees into her chest and wrapped her arms around them.
Wade folded his arms under his head, the movement tugging his Western shirt from the narrow waistline of his jeans. Only his lower face was visible under the hat. His square jawline was freshly shaven. There was a shallow cleft in his chin she hadn’t noticed before. His lips were relaxed, turning neither up nor down. His upper lip dipped in the middle, and she had a sudden image of herself leaning over and placing a soft kiss square on his mouth.
Disturbing.
She shook her head and pulled her eyes from him. Mercy. Just because he couldn’t see her was no reason to let her imagination run wild.
She plucked a nearby dandelion puff and twirled it between her fingers. She should make a wish. She glanced at Maddy, who was splashing right into the water without so much as a pause. Her feet made quick work of the rocky bottom.
Wade still rested in the shade, his Father’s Day picture at his elbow. Abigail closed her eyes and blew at the dandelion puff. When she opened her eyes, the spores were dancing away on the wind. She twirled the naked stem in her fingers.
“Make a wish?” Wade’s eyes were open now.
“Maybe.” She heard the flirtatious tone in her own voice. Cool it, Abigail. Sheesh.
She turned her attention to Maddy, who was waist-deep now. Maddy plunged forward and came up a moment later near a large boulder.
Abigail frowned. “How deep is the water?” she asked Wade.
“Waist-deep. She’s a good swimmer, and the current is slow.”
True enough. The water was almost still.
Near the edge, Maddy burst from the water, her entire torso above the waterline. Abigail might as well join her if Wade was going to nap.
“I didn’t know she had artistic ability.” Wade’s tone revealed disappointment.
“Isn’t that a good thing?” Abigail had a little bit of artist in her, enough to appreciate Maddy’s talent.
“I should’ve noticed.”
Abigail wanted to ease his guilt and didn’t know why. “If it’s the first time she’s drawn you something, how could you know?”
Wade tipped his hat back on his head and propped his torso on his elbows, making his shoulders look broader than ever. He watched Maddy attempt a handstand, but the slight current worked against her.
“She doing okay, you think?” He darted a look at Abigail. “I mean, you being a woman and all.” He shifted uncomfortably, like he had pieces of hay stuck in his shirt.
Abigail was charmed by his unease. “Maddy’s a good kid. Really. I like that she’s curious and straightforward.”
“You mean nosy and blunt?”
“She might come across that way every now and then, but those qualities will temper with age. At least you always know what’s on her mind.”
A frown puckered between Wade’s brows, and Abigail realized that might not be true for him. Maddy might not feel free to tell her dad what she was thinking. Regardless of Wade’s past, regardless of
her investigation, maybe Abigail could help the father and daughter find firmer footing before she left.
“She might be a little lonely,” Abigail said. “That was my first impression of her—’course it didn’t help she was crying over her missing bike at the time.”
“Watch this!” Maddy called.
“She’s taken with you,” Wade said as his daughter’s feet shot skyward.
Abigail looked at him. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”
“I worry about her. How she’ll feel when you leave.”
He didn’t have to say what he was thinking. She’s already lost so much.
“She’s had a nanny every summer.”
Maddy came up from her handstand and Abigail gave her a thumbs-up.
“That’s different.”
“How so?”
Wade sat up, rested his forearms on his raised knees. “I don’t know. She wasn’t close to them.”
“I haven’t been here two weeks.” She realized as she said it that that was exactly what he found so disconcerting. If Maddy was this attached after a handful of days, how would she feel in three months?
“I’ll miss her when I leave too.” What did he want from her anyway? “Would you rather I just left her to her own devices?” She knew the frown made its way into her tone and didn’t care.
Wade tugged his hat, then sighed. “Don’t know what I want. Just don’t want her hurt.”
His concern for Maddy drained her irritation. “You can’t protect her from everything.”
The corner of his lip tucked in. He flicked a look at her, just enough self-deprecating humor in his eyes to show he knew he fought a losing battle. “I can try.”
“Relationships teach us a lot about life and ourselves, even the short-term ones. I’d like to have a positive impact on Maddy.”
“You’re right. God brings people into our lives for a reason. Sometimes I forget.”
“Maddy’s already aware that loss is a part of life. Besides, you’re her dad, and she’ll always have you.”
His lips pressed slightly together, and Abigail wondered what that meant.
She rubbed her temple where it pounded. What she’d give for a couple Tylenol. It hadn’t hurt this much since she’d been here. Well, except when she’d fallen from Trinket.
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