by Leigh Riker
Shadow paused to steady her voice. She couldn’t tell Grey that every day she’d thought that if Jared hadn’t died, if she and Grey hadn’t broken up and her father hadn’t turned his back on her, maybe she and Grey would have woken each morning together, talked about their baby in low, happy tones. At times she’d yearned so much for that, she almost couldn’t breathe, as if she really did have asthma.
But, instead, in the view of many, he had killed her brother, and Shadow still had her own doubts. Was Grey innocent, as he claimed? Or guilty? Certainly she’d resented the fact that Grey had gone back to finish college as if nothing had happened, that he would take over his father’s ranch...marry someone else. She was still surprised that he never had.
“So, after the baby was born...” His gaze flickered. “Where is she now?”
Shadow swallowed. “In school, staying at my sister Jenna’s.”
“You didn’t give her up,” he said, looking more than surprised.
“No,” she murmured.
His mouth had that stubborn set she’d seen so many times before. “Then I want to see her,” he said in a tone that didn’t allow for her refusal.
“Grey, I’ll need to talk to her first. We can’t just show up and say, ‘Hi, honey, this is your father.’”
He frowned. “I didn’t exactly plan to do it that way.”
She glanced at the darkening sky again. The thunderheads looked close enough to touch now. And a little frisson of doubt ran through her. If only Jared wasn’t gone and she and Grey were still together. If only she could believe, like Blossom and Logan now, in happy endings and having the family she still yearned for.
With Ava home again, maybe she would. But that family didn’t include Grey.
The first drops of rain began to fall. Soon the sky would open up, and unless she moved, they would still be here, eye to eye, at odds with each other.
Shadow said, “I’ve been planning to bring her back to Barren—but to introduce you that abruptly? No,” she said again. “That’s not in her best interest.”
His voice was close to a growl. “I think it is. You’ve had nine years, Shadow. She’s my daughter, too—and you’ve lied to me. All this time. No more.”
CHAPTER FIVE
SHADOW HAD CUT short her work hours several days ago after she’d told Grey about Ava then gone to see Blossom. After talking with her mother and Derek, she’d meant to visit her client at the rehab center, but instead went back to the office. Then she’d told Grey about Doc and the Merritts and fallen even further behind. She needed to catch up. However, earlier today, she’d finally called Blossom to say she could be in the wedding if Blossom still wanted her. Even to avoid Grey, she couldn’t disappoint Blossom. How many true friends does a person have? To be honest, she also felt guilty about him.
He was right. For too many years she’d kept Ava from Grey. The least she could do was stand with him while their mutual friends got married, a happy ending she couldn’t picture for herself. Other than that she didn’t know how to atone for what she’d done. To Ava, too.
Clearly, she’d made mistakes. Had it been easier to go about her life with Ava in Kansas City and Shawnee Mission rather than face Grey? If she’d never come back to Barren, would she ever have told him? She’d always planned to—at some point—but the opportunity never seemed to arise, and she’d tried to tell herself maybe that was for the best, that Grey had his own life without her. Now she knew that had been another error on her part. What if he’d simply run into Ava somewhere? She couldn’t risk that.
Today, as the next step before he met her, she was going to see Ava. She wouldn’t mention Grey just yet, although Ava had asked about her father over the years. Shadow had always kept it vague, telling Ava he couldn’t be part of their lives but that, of course, he loved her. Another reason to feel guilty now.
But first, after dealing with the morning emails and texts at the office, she had an appointment at the rehabilitation center to finally check on Ned Sutherland, the elderly rancher who had suffered a stroke. Shadow had provided a caregiver for him before that and he would probably need one again.
“You’re doing well, Mr. Sutherland. When do you expect to go home?”
For a moment, he didn’t answer. Their visit had been punctuated by long silences and the obvious frustration she saw in his weathered face. His speech halting, Ned covered his first stumbling attempt to speak with a discreet cough.
“I...go...prob’ly next...week.” His mouth leaned a little to the right and he gripped his weak hand in his lap with the other. The staff here had done their work, though. They’d gotten him on his feet and walking again, although he seemed to prefer staying in his room. That wasn’t good. He needed cheering up.
Shadow had found him sitting by the window, his bony shoulders slumped, looking out toward the babbling brook on the lush green property. Several rough wooden benches were arranged along the bank for patients to enjoy the view and listen to the rushing water. For a man who’d spent most of his life outdoors on a horse or a tractor, like Logan’s grandfather Sam—like Grey—Ned’s enforced confinement had likely been more than difficult.
“You’ll be back in the saddle before you know it,” Shadow said, leaning down to pat his joined hands. He had bowed his head over them, the circle of bare scalp at his crown, which was normally covered by his hat, appearing larger than before. In the past months, the rest of his hair had gone from gray to snowy white. She bent her knees to peer into his weary dark eyes. “I’m sorry I missed seeing your granddaughter today, but please tell her I said hi.”
“I...will.” He blinked up at her. “Nice place...but I’m pretty homesick.”
“I don’t blame you.” When she straightened, Shadow glanced down and saw the well-broken-in boots on his feet. Those he hadn’t left behind. Putting the bouquet of yellow freesias she’d brought for him in a pretty blue vase on his nightstand, she said, “Enjoy those magazines. Keep your chin up, Mr. Sutherland. I’ll check on you again the next time I’m here.”
“Hope I...won’t be.” Then he grinned.
“I hope you won’t be, too.” Shadow silently applauded his show of spirit. A good sign, yet she knew that once he left here he would still need care. “In that case, I’ll visit you at home.”
“Look...forward to that.” His mouth twisted. He’d probably taxed his strength and needed to rest. “Good...girl, Shadow.”
He gave her a wink before she stepped out into the hallway. Still smiling, she headed for the large reception area with lush sofas and deep-cushioned chairs arranged around a flagstone fireplace and, across the room, a big aquarium filled with colorful fish. Oriental area rugs centered the spaces.
Shadow would speak to his granddaughter soon about his in-home care. She had a lot of older clients like Ned Sutherland, including Sam Hunter, who’d been thrown by that bison cow on the Circle H. Shadow had hired Blossom then as a temporary caregiver—and now she was planning to marry Logan. Shadow was determined to put on her best face for the wedding.
On her way past the reception desk, Shadow spotted another acquaintance, Bertrand O’Neill, who she hadn’t seen in a while. Bertie sat in a wheelchair holding a large package on his lap. That must be everything he’d brought with him to rehab weeks ago. She laid a hand on his shoulder. “Going home today?”
“Yes, ma’am.” He beamed at her. “How you doin’, Shadow? How’s your mama and daddy? And all those brothers and sisters?”
Shadow tensed. Bertie’s memory wasn’t the best these days. He’d clearly lost his sense of time and events while he was here. “My father died last year,” she reminded him in as gentle a tone as she could manage. “My mother’s doing okay.”
She bypassed any update on her siblings. One brother was dead, of course, and she had nothing right now to say about Derek. The youngest Morans—Cherry at
twenty-one and Tanya at twenty-two—were away at college. Which left Shadow. And Jenna. She didn’t want to think about that right now.
Next to Bertie, a tall, dark-haired man was talking to the receptionist. He pulled out his wallet and handed over a credit card. Then he turned toward Shadow. His brown eyes lit up before he smiled.
“Jack Hancock.” Or should she call him Jacques? For a while, after Shadow had hired him to replace Blossom as Sam’s caregiver at the Circle H—which hadn’t proved necessary because Blossom never left, after all—he’d insisted on referring to himself by the French version of his name. “I thought you’d left town.”
“Left and came back,” he said. Just like Shadow. “Uncle Bertie needs me.”
“Yes, he does.” Somewhere along the way, Jack had lost his faux French accent. “Is there anything I can do to make things easier?”
“Nothing except to find me a job. But then, I’d have no one to watch Bertie.”
“That’s what my agency is for.” Shadow rummaged in her bag for a business card in case he or Bertie had misplaced the one she’d given them before.
Jack took it, then retrieved his credit card from the clerk at the desk, signed the rehab center’s copy and gripped the handle of his uncle’s wheelchair. He pushed Bertie toward the exit. “He’s anxious to sleep in his own bed tonight. Eat some of my home cooking again.” Jack was a chef and a good one. “We’ll be fine,” he said.
“You’ll call me if the situation changes?”
“Sure will. Bertie’s stay here cost more than the finest hotel in KC. Don’t know how we’ll balance the budget this month if I don’t get work. I’ve been looking, but nothing has turned up.”
“You want a job as a cook?” she asked.
“Cook, wrangler, whatever. I’m a jack-of-all-trades, you might say.”
“Let me know once you find something, and I’ll see what I can do for Bertie.”
* * *
AFTER SHE LEFT Bertie and Jack at the rehab center, Shadow stopped by her office to reread Jack’s file. Weeks ago, Logan Hunter had given him a good reference as far as Jack’s cooking and household skills went, but there had been an unpleasant incident at the Circle H involving two ranch hands and Jack had abruptly quit. If he found a job now and needed care for Bertie, she would step in.
With a growing anticipation that tightened her stomach and made her heart beat faster, she drove to the same strip mall where she’d met Jenna. Seeing Ava in midweek had been a rare occurrence this past year, and Ava’s sunny smile always made Shadow ache with love and longing. The very sight of her little girl set her world right on its axis again, every time, yet their previous weekend hadn’t gone that well and Shadow couldn’t seem to block out Jenna’s words. She didn’t even ask about you.
Shadow wasn’t smiling as she crossed the parking lot outside the bookstore. At the other end of the row of shops was the candy and ice cream store. Taking a moment to school her features into a more pleasant expression, she watched Ava, who had just gotten out of Jenna’s car. Ava squared her shoulders as if she was about to face some punishment rather than enjoy an hour with Shadow, and she fought back another quick surge of guilt. In the past year they hadn’t spent nearly enough time together—which was what she hoped to begin to correct now.
At her approach, Shadow finally smiled. Ava had the same slight frame and long legs as Shadow had had at her age, the same height. In the photographs taken with her sisters and brothers years ago, Shadow had looked painfully skinny and angular, but at nine Ava was better cared for. And not only because she lived at Jenna and David’s house. Though Shadow knew this past year must have been tough on her daughter, Ava didn’t lack for love and attention. Shadow had made sure of that, even when she couldn’t be with her all the time.
But once Ava moved to Barren to be with Shadow, they would cuddle up each night at bedtime, as they used to do, and Shadow would read Ava a book. At the memory of her favorite story years ago about a cowgirl named Janie, Shadow ached with longing. Ava must have outgrown that by now, but they could share another book written for children more her age. And did Ava still have the little pony that had been her best “stuffie” ever since she was born? Shadow hadn’t seen it in a while.
As Ava neared her, Shadow focused on her with another lurch of her heart.
Ava had inherited Shadow’s dark hair with the brown lowlights that gave it depth...and Grey’s blue-green eyes. To see her now, with a growing frown and a stiffness in her posture, made Shadow ache in a very different way.
“Hi, baby.” She tried to draw her close, but Ava stepped back.
Her gaze focused on the pavement between them. “Hi.”
Shadow glanced over her daughter’s head at Jenna, still seated in her flashy new SUV, holding her cell phone to her ear. Was she deliberately prolonging a call to avoid speaking with her again?
“We won’t be too long,” Shadow called out. “Meet you back here.”
Jenna hung up. “Ava has a birthday party,” she told Shadow. “As soon as I buy the gift, we’ll have to leave.”
Shadow didn’t answer. She mentally readjusted her plans for the day. There wouldn’t be time to take Ava to the clothing store and let her pick out some new summer outfits unless they didn’t stop at the ice cream shop.
Jenna knew she’d observe their time limit, yet in the months since Shadow had opened her agency in Barren and begun to commute between there and Kansas City, her meetings with Jenna had become more and more uncomfortable. Shadow was never quite sure of her sister’s current mind-set or mood, and lately she hadn’t been able to reestablish their connection during her weekends in Shawnee Mission, either. The same was true of her relationship with Ava.
She reached again for her daughter’s hand, this time catching her fingers. “How does an ice cream cone sound? With caramel syrup and lots of sprinkles?”
Ava loved anything with sugar in it, and the warm afternoon should have tempted her to indulge, but she hung back. “I have to say bye first.” Pulling free from Shadow’s hand, she hurried across the tarmac to Jenna. Shadow stood back while they exchanged kisses and hugs, and murmured words Shadow couldn’t hear. Jenna had been good to Ava, she couldn’t deny that, and she was grateful for it, but their growing closeness made Shadow question her choice to leave Ava in Shawnee Mission for this long. Shadow needed to take a harder look at herself. How could she have let things get to this point? Jenna sent her a warning look. “We need to talk again, Shadow.”
“Yes, we do. But right now, as you said, the clock is ticking.” She started to walk away. “Come on, Ava. Let’s pig out.”
Shadow didn’t look back but Ava kept glancing at Jenna until she’d backed the SUV out of its parking space and pulled away, turning onto the nearby street. Ava looked up at Shadow with what appeared to be tears in her eyes.
“Where have you been?”
The question stung. True, Shadow had been gone a lot this past year, but she’d explained the situation to Ava many times. She’d thought her daughter had adjusted to her weekend stays and nightly phone calls during the week. She’d repeatedly promised that was only temporary, but clearly Ava was still hurting.
“Ava, I know you’re not happy with me right now—”
“Uncle David went away.”
Caught off guard, Shadow took a breath. “You mean on his business trip?”
“I guess. I don’t know where.”
Shadow tensed. She had never cared for David Collins, who didn’t seem to care for her, either, and his inability to show Ava much affection, although partially offset by Jenna’s love, made Shadow all the more determined to bring her daughter home for good.
She gave her a quick hug. “I’m sure he’ll be home soon.”
For another long moment Ava seemed to think that over, then her face brightened and she was once
more a little girl who simply wanted a treat. “Can we get ice cream now?”
“You bet. A double scoop.”
They were in line at the counter of the small shop done in cheerful red and white with candy canes everywhere, when Ava asked, “How come I don’t see you except on Saturdays and Sundays?”
“And Friday evenings.” Shadow swallowed that lump of guilt. Jenna had warned her. Shadow and Ava had been inseparable for the first six years of her daughter’s life and their partial separation had been harder on Ava than she’d expected it to be. Hard on Shadow, too. That had to change.
The clerk handed Ava’s chocolate cone across the counter. She wasn’t a baby or toddler anymore, or even the six-year-old she’d been when she and Shadow moved in with Jenna and David. Ava’s resentment would only worsen over time unless... Shadow needed to broach the subject carefully. After that, she could let Grey meet Ava.
They took their ice cream cones outside to a shady spot under some trees. Shadow watched Ava for another moment, trying to choose the right words to say.
“Sweetie,” she tried again. “I can’t always be at Aunt Jenna’s when I need to work during the week. I want to make sure we have everything you need...and you know about the new house. It’s ready now.” The announcement she’d once hoped would bring a big smile to Ava’s face fell flat. Ava licked her cone. “I only saw that house once.”
Shadow had driven her to Barren on the day of the closing, and Ava had seemed excited, but in the last few months, while Shadow unpacked and organized before she brought Ava home, Ava had lost her enthusiasm. In the meantime Jenna had redecorated Ava’s bedroom in the Shawnee Mission house, and Ava had stopped asking when she would move in with Shadow.
“I know you like staying at Aunt Jenna’s, but—”
“I want to live there. All the time. Why can’t we stay there?”
“Didn’t we always plan to move into the new house? Our house?” She tried to lighten the mood. “Remember when we lived in that tiny apartment where we had to share a bedroom? Staying at Aunt Jenna’s was only meant to be for a while. Now it’s time to move on.”
