His eyes skimmed across the ranch buildings. Even though ninety years had passed, not much had changed since his great grandfather first laid eyes on this slice of heaven. The ranch had grown from four hundred acres, slowly expanding until his family owned almost seven thousand acres of rich Montana soil. Homesteaders had come and gone in the early days, lured to Montana with the railroad and stories of wealth and a lifestyle second to none. Nathan could only imagine the hardships his great grandparent’s had endured as they’d carved an income from land that refused to be tamed.
And soon the ranch would be his responsibility. His chance to make a mark on the world, leave a legacy that the next generation of Gray’s would appreciate.
He choked back a laugh. That’s if he ever found the courage to stick his neck on the block and marry someone. It had been bad enough dealing with his scars. Finding out Amy thought the rest of him needed work had hurt worse than the first time she’d left. Damn woman had spent most of her life tying him up in knots so tight that he’d never get her out of his head.
Chan tossed his mane, pulling Nathan back to the view in front of him. He rubbed his hand along his jaw and felt the stubble of four days growth scraping against his gloves. He’d last shaved on Saturday, right before he’d taken Amy and Catherine to see their mom. He hadn’t heard from her since. Not that he’d expected a heart-to-heart conversation about what had happened. But he had expected to at least get second-hand gossip from his sister. Sally, for once in her life, had decided Amy was off limits for family discussion.
A flash of light bounced off the fields on his right. Chan stomped his feet and Nathan moved toward the outer edge of the ridge. Leaning forward, he raised himself off the saddle to get a better view of the land. Whatever was down there flared again, brighter than the afternoon sun. Before he’d taken another breath Chan lost his footing, hooves scrabbling against loose rock and shards of ice.
He realized too late what was happening. His feet slipped out of the stirrups and gravity finished off what curiosity had started. He flew over Chan’s head, tossed in the air like a bull rider somersaulting off his mount.
As he hurtled toward the snow packed earth, he rolled into a ball, protecting his back and right shoulder as best he could. Fat lot of good that did him. As soon as he hit the ground, air whooshed out of his lungs and he felt like he’d been pummeled by a freight train. His body twisted and turned, finally coming to rest with an almighty thud against a big old pine tree.
For a few seconds he stared up at the branches, more concerned about breathing than figuring out if he could move. Then the pain hit and he knew he was in trouble.
“Thank you for meeting me today.” Carmen sat in the same seat she’d used when they’d met at the weekend. Her eyes kept darting toward Jackie, waiting for a signal from Catherine’s case worker before continuing. “I need to tell you something, and I need to do it today, before I leave.”
Amy nodded, not trusting her voice. She’d spent more time with her mom over the last twenty-four hours than she had in years, and she knew no more about her than before she’d arrived in Bozeman. They’d talked about Catherine, Amy’s job at the hospital, the new man in Carmen’s life - the one that had changed her life.
“I didn’t have much self esteem when I was younger,” her mom began. “Your grandpa didn’t believe in education. He thought life held all the lessons a girl needed to learn and they started with the belt around his waist.”
Carmen picked up her mug of tea, sipping the hot liquid slowly, then placing it on the table with shaking hands. “When I was fifteen I met your father. He wasn’t much older than me. Neither of us knew what we were doing and when I told him I was pregnant I never saw him again. When I told my parents they threw me out of their house.” Carmen looked at Jackie, waiting for her nod.
“I didn’t have anywhere to go so I stayed on the street for most of my pregnancy. I met a woman at a shelter and she put me in contact with people that could help me. They wanted me to think about giving you up for adoption. They told me I could go back to school, get an education, give you a better life with someone else. I nearly...I nearly signed the papers, but the moment I saw you I knew I couldn’t go through with it.”
Jackie nudged a box of tissues across the table. As Carmen wiped her eyes, Amy tried to imagine what her mom’s life had been like. She’d been alone and unwanted, a child with a new baby to look after and no one to help. “Did your parents come and see you after I was born?”
Carmen blew her nose, dropping the wet tissues into a bin under the desk “I wrote to your grandma. She came and saw me once. I don’t think she agreed with what your grandpa had done, but she didn’t want to make him angry. She gave me the address of a cousin in Utah and enough money to get there. Your grandma hadn’t told them about you, and they weren’t too happy about providing a home for an unmarried teenager with a baby. They let me stay with them until I had enough money to pay for somewhere for us to live.”
“What did you do to earn money?”
“I worked nights at a supermarket, restocking the shelves, and during the day I volunteered at the Logan Library. The librarians let me bring you in with me and they brought you little treats. It was warm and safe and much better than spending the days with my cousin. I thought I’d found heaven after the year I’d been through.”
Amy couldn’t remember anything about Utah, but she did remember her mom taking her to the libraries in the towns they’d lived in. When she was old enough, she’d walk to the public library after school and stay there until her mom picked her up. If she didn’t make a fuss and kept to herself, most people didn’t mind her sitting in the corner, reading a book. And sometimes, when the library had afterschool programs, she’d sneak into the back of the room and join in with the other kids and their parents. About the only constant thing in Amy’s life had been the libraries. No matter how bad things got at home or at school, she had the library.
“I eventually got a job on checkout and we rented a trailer on the outskirt of town. We moved around a lot after that. I guess I was always looking for something better, but nothing lasted.” Carmen looked Amy in the eye for the first time since they’d been in the room together. “I did the best I could, but I know I let you down.”
Amy looked away. She’d seen her mom cry bucket loads of tears when she was drunk, but never when she was sober. Even though she’d dreaded coming here today she felt sad for her mom and for what she’d gone through growing up. She glanced at Jackie, waiting for her to say something, to fill the silence suffocating the room.
Jackie sat quietly in her seat, returning Amy’s stare. She looked as if she was prepared to stay there all night if that’s what it took for the conversation to continue.
The room started to feel small and hot. Amy couldn’t sit still any longer. She stood up and walked across to the window, watching people dodge cars and buses as they carried on with their lives. She thought about all the times she’d had to make excuses for her mom. The times when she’d visited food banks because they didn’t have enough to eat and her mom couldn’t make it to the door without falling over. She remembered the other kids at school, whispering behind her back and calling her names because she wore the same clothes every day.
Out of the corner of her eye, she watched her mom struggling to pull herself together. To do what she’d always done so well; put parts of her life into storage and slam the lid shut on all the issues she couldn’t deal with.
Carmen pulled more tissues out of the box and rubbed her red eyes. “You were a good girl. I don’t know where you got your head for schoolwork, but you passed all your exams and didn’t get into trouble.”
Amy swallowed the lump in her throat. She wouldn’t let herself get emotionally involved in her mother’s life again. It had nearly torn her in two when she’d been younger, the constant highs and lows of her mom’s life, and she wouldn’t let it happen again. But the memories Amy had tucked away to make the tough times bearable c
ame crashing back. Like the pull of an ocean wave they tossed and turned inside her head, spilling out in front of her, teasing her. Making her believe that everything could get better. If her mom was different. If she was different. If pigs could fly.
Amy walked back to the table and sat down. When her mom wasn’t drunk she’d been a good person. She’d read Amy stories and played make believe. They’d visited thrift stores, pretending they were shopping in fancy boutiques, looking for the latest fashions. Instead of pretty pink dresses with frills and buttons, they’d leave with jeans and sweaters. And jackets that would keep out the bitter cold when her mom forgot to pay the power bill.
“I was too proud to ask for help, but that’s changed now.” Carmen blew her nose and picked up her bag, unzipping a side pocket. She pulled out a small plastic folder, then walked around the table to Amy. “Everything changed for the better when I moved to San Francisco.”
Amy’s head shot up and panic raced through her body. San Francisco? That was thousands of miles away. She’d never see Catherine, not unless she moved to the West Coast and started a new career. Her gaze shot to Jackie. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
Carmen looked between Amy and Jackie, a confused frown on her face. “I moved there three months ago. I thought Catherine’s case worker in Chicago would have told you.”
Amy shook her head, “I didn’t know.”
Jackie opened the brown folder sitting in front of her and read through the notes. “The case worker in Chicago visited Catherine two weeks before Carmen moved. They made a note in the file, but it doesn’t look as though they followed through with a letter to you, Amy.” She turned another page over and looked up. “It took a few weeks to transfer Catherine’s file across to the Montana office. That’s probably why the information wasn’t passed on. But as I mentioned earlier, as long as Catherine’s care can be monitored it doesn’t matter where each of you live.”
Amy closed her eyes for a few seconds and tried to steady her pounding heart. There were plenty of hospitals and medical centers in the San Francisco Bay area, but finding a job that didn’t involve long shifts and unpredictable hours would be hard. She didn’t want to leave Montana, but saying goodbye to her sister would be worse than starting over.
Carmen sat beside Amy. She opened the folder in her hands and left it on the table. “This is Tom Ellery. I was waiting tables at an accountant’s conference in Chicago when I met him.”
Her mom pointed to the photo of a man in his mid fifties. He was tall and lean with grey hair and a wide smile. He stood in front of a pretty Californian bungalow, his arm wrapped around Carmen’s waist. They both looked happy and relaxed and everything her mom had dreamed about. With a sinking heart, Amy realized that all they needed to make the photo complete was a baby.
She looked closely at Tom’s face, trying to find something to dislike, something that had forced her mom to abandon Catherine. He seemed crazily normal, different from the other men that had paraded in and out of Carmen’s life. “Is he Catherine’s father?”
Carmen shook her head. “That was Ralph, a no good drunk who would sooner spend the night with his gambling buddies than me. I left him about a month after you took Catherine in.”
“Sounds like a lucky escape,” Amy muttered.
Her mom gave her a sharp look before returning to the album. “Tom’s wife died six years ago. He has two children in their early thirties. Carly is a lawyer in Boston and David works in his dad’s accounting firm.” Carmen turned the page over. “And this is Moggy.”
A black cat with half an ear was hissing at whoever had taken the photo. It didn’t look as though Moggy was a happy cat.
“I brought him with me from Chicago. We’ve been through a lot together.” Carmen voice grew softer. She closed the book and pushed it toward Amy. “There are other photos in there. I put captions on them so you’d know who you were looking at.”
Amy opened the album and stared at the photo in front of her.
Carmen leaned forward, looking over Amy’s shoulder. “That’s my parents and there are some of both of us when you were growing up.”
Amy’s heart squeezed tight until it was hard to breathe. She flicked through the photos, watching eighteen years of her life disappear in a few seconds. The last photo had been taken at her high school graduation, the only time her mom had come back to Montana after she’d left her with the Gray family.
“You probably think I’m going to go back to my old life, but this time it’s different. Tom’s helping me become a stronger person. He loves me, Amy, and I love him. We’re building a good life together.”
Amy glanced at her mom and saw a determination in her gaze that hadn’t been there before. For her mom’s sake she hoped it was true.
Carmen glanced nervously at Jackie. “I haven’t mentioned this to anyone except Tom and my lawyer. I thought it would be best to be honest with you. I don’t want to leave you wondering what’s going to happen to Catherine.”
Amy held her breath, dreading what her mom was about to say. Her heart beat so fast that she could feel the blood pumping through the pulse in her neck, throbbing against her skin.
“Tom never thought he’d have more children after David was born. When I told him about you and Catherine he wanted to get to know you, to be a father to your sister.”
Amy pushed the album aside, bracing herself against the words tumbling from her mother’s lips.
Carmen stood up and moved back to her seat on the other side of the table, twisting the ring on her finger in circles. “I thought long and hard about my life. About how far I’ve come. How far I’ve got to go. I don’t know if I can give Catherine what she needs. I messed up so badly with you, Amy, that I don’t know if I have the right to try again with your sister.”
“You don’t have to make any decisions now, Carmen,” Jackie said. “The last few days have given you a chance to spend time with Amy and Catherine. You’ve got plenty of time to think things through.”
Carmen dropped her gaze to her hands clasped in front of her. “I didn’t come here to get to know Catherine better.” Her voice shook and tears fell down her face. “I came to say goodbye.”
Amy’s mouth dropped open. She choked out a noise halfway between a sob and a cry. She replayed what her mom had said, sure that she’d misheard her. Goodbye was final. It meant never again; I don’t want to see you. I don’t love you.
Jackie’s pen fell to the table, the notes in front of her forgotten as she stared across the table. “What do you mean, Carmen?”
“I’m not coming back.” Carmen wiped her face with a tissue and took a deep shuddering breath. “I don’t want Catherine to live with me. I can’t risk her future. Tom is the best thing that’s ever happened to me, but I can’t rely on him to make everything better. It has to come from me and I’m not strong enough on my own.”
“What’s going to happen to Catherine?” Amy whispered, afraid of the answer. She couldn’t bear it if her sister had to go into foster care, abandoned because their mother didn’t want her, and Amy wasn’t considered good enough for long-term care. There were thousands of couples waiting on adoption lists, all desperate to have families of their own. They had more secure futures than Amy did. Two incomes to give Catherine everything she could ever need.
Amy had a part-time, fixed-term contract with a medium sized hospital. She house-sat three cats and had to watch every penny she spent. No permanent home, no permanent job. Nothing to make her stand out amongst the couples waiting to adopt a toddler.
“I’m hoping you want to care for Catherine permanently, Amy,” Carmen said. “I’ll sign whatever papers are necessary. The only thing I ask is that you send me photos every now and again and let me know how Catherine is doing. If she wants to contact me when she’s older we can talk about it then. But for now I can’t see her. Not for a long time.”
Jackie pulled the chair out beside Carmen and sat down. “Do you know what you’re asking?”
“
I’ve thought about it for a long time.” Carmen reached down and lifted an envelope out of her bag. “I had a lawyer draw up this petition to the court before I left San Francisco. If you’re happy to be Catherine’s guardian I’ll file it at the courthouse before I leave today.” She looked across at Amy.
Amy nodded, too shocked to do anything else.
Jackie took the document that Carmen held out to her and read it. She took a deep breath and rested her hand on Carmen’s arm. “You’ll be giving up all parental rights to your daughter. You won’t be able to see her or contact her without Amy’s permission. For the rest of your life she won’t legally be your child. Is that what you really want?”
“It’s what’s best for Catherine. My lawyer told me I’d have to come back to Bozeman for a hearing. From the moment the judge agrees to the petition, I won’t be her legal parent.” She took the papers from Jackie and slid them back inside the envelope. “I can’t offer you money for Catherine’s upkeep, because I don’t have much. But I did bring you this...”
Carmen reached into her bag and pulled out an old ring box. The red cover had mostly worn off, leaving patches of velvet stuck to the outside like a pocket gopher molting in the spring. “When your grandma visited us she gave me her mother’s engagement and wedding rings. It was all she had. I want you to have them.”
Amy opened the lid, holding her breath as the overhead light caught the centre of the solitaire diamond. Set against a narrow platinum band, a rainbow of color glowed in the box. “It’s beautiful.”
“I hope it brings you more luck than I found.” Carmen’s chair scraped against the floor as she stood up. She pulled her jacket on, lifting the collar high around her neck. “I’ve got to go. Thank you for looking after your sister, Amy. I can’t tell you how sorry I am that I wasn’t able to give you the childhood you should have had.” With tears in her eyes Carmen left the room, closing the door quietly behind her.
Forever in Love (Montana Brides) Page 19
