by Glynna Kaye
This was a young man clearly ready to cut a few apron strings.
Travis clucked to his horse. “Sometimes I feel that after losing Mom, he thinks he has to be there every second to make sure nothing bad happens to me ever again. I’ve had money saved for over a year to buy a used truck, but he won’t give me the go-ahead.”
“You’ve talked to him about this?”
Travis cast her a doubtful look. “And hurt his feelings?”
He loved his dad. Felt protective of him. “I think the way you react to his involvement, like that night at youth group, hurts him more than being honest would.”
“We don’t communicate that well anymore. And with him wanting us to leave Hunter Ridge? Well, we had a few words this morning and it wasn’t pretty. But no way am I going to Kansas.”
Kansas?
Delaney’s hands tightened on the reins. Had that been what she’d unintentionally barged in on a few hours ago? That news would no doubt have been enough to alienate Anna and could account for what Chloe had been about to blurt to her great-grandmother before Luke expertly cut her off. “Your father wants to move away from here? Why?”
“Who knows? He has a job offer from some of his old army buddies. Says it’s for the best and that someday, when we’re older, we’ll understand.”
Best for whom? Him or his kids?
How could he even consider taking them away from Hunter Ridge? Far from the Hideaway where they were surrounded by a loving family. She’d been introduced to a number of them this morning. All had greeted her as though welcoming a long-lost friend. She’d give just about anything to have a family like that nearby. Couldn’t he see that he had something special here that others could only dream of?
“I’m sorry, Travis. I know your dad planning a move must have come as a shock.”
“No kidding.”
Now that they could again glimpse the main buildings of the property through the trees, up ahead Travis’s father had reined to a halt, allowing the string of riders to file past him as he waited for her and Travis to catch up.
When they reached him, Travis rode past him without a word, and Luke reined in beside her. Looking yummy in a Western-cut shirt, jeans and boots, his eyes were shadowed by the brim of a cowboy hat. What was it about a Western hat that made an already handsome man even more masculine and rugged?
Luke nodded toward the teens now well ahead of them. “I hope that conversation between the two of you included an apology from Travis.”
“It did. A sincere one.” But she wouldn’t share anything else Travis had said, though she wanted to question Luke on his decision to leave Hunter Ridge.
“Like I said earlier, he’s a good kid. But sometimes...” Luke shook his head, a bemused smile surfacing.
“Parenting isn’t for wimps?”
“Single-parenting sure isn’t.”
That was the first direct reference to his solo status that he’d made since she’d met him. Her gaze held his steadily, hoping he’d elaborate.
“My wife—the kids’ mother—died a few years back. Six, actually.”
“I’m sorry. That must make parenting doubly difficult.” Could memories of his deceased wife be too much to live with here? Familiar faces and places shared might comfort some people, but only serve to torment others. Her own family had moved frequently, so there was no hometown filled with memories of Mom, Dad, Grandma and Tiffany. Canyon Springs with her aunt was as close to a hometown as she’d ever gotten.
“I thought you should know.” He stared down the trail, a muscle tightening in his jaw. “You know, since my kids are working on the Mason house with you.”
“I’ll do my best not to say or do something that might be insensitive to their situation.” Thankfully, Garrett had already clued her in so she hadn’t assumed they had a mother in their lives.
“I do appreciate your help on the project,” she ventured, “but please don’t feel obligated to make it your responsibility. I’m sure you already have enough to do, and I know you have reservations about the Masons.”
“We’ve made the youth group project a family event since Travis entered high school. I’m good with it.”
“I know from my own experiences...” She wanted to word this carefully. “That working on a project like this can be a real growing experience for young people. It provides opportunities for casual conversation about personal and spiritual issues that might not take place otherwise. But for some kids, the presence of parents can make them self-conscious, uncomfortable sharing their innermost thoughts, feelings and fears.”
The Sunday night Bible study discussions hadn’t gone beyond canned answers and superficialities with Luke again plopped in their midst. She didn’t expect it to be any different tomorrow night. But Travis certainly wouldn’t have shared with her what he did today had his father been riding next to them.
Luke adjusted the reins, a troubled look in his eyes. “You don’t think parents should spend time with their kids?”
“Of course I do. And I appreciate having another adult on the premises at Bible studies, outings and projects. I think that’s a good practice in this day and age.” She leaned over to pat her horse’s neck. “Maybe parents could take turns, not be present for all work sessions, or every event.”
He shifted in the saddle, his eyes narrowing in her direction. “Exactly what did Travis say to you?”
“What do you mean?”
“Did he tell you he doesn’t want me there?”
She cringed inwardly. She should have waited until later to talk to Luke about this so he wouldn’t have tied the conversation directly back to his son. Dumb, dumb, dumb.
“I’m thinking of all the kids in the youth group who need a taste of independence while under their parents’ roof. An opportunity to grow and learn and escape the nest once in a while, to stretch their wings while still having the safety net of family.”
Luke was silent a moment, then angled a considering look at her. “And you know this how? From your years of parenting experience?”
She reined her horse to a halt. Luke did likewise. “I may not be a parent, Luke, but I am deeply aware of what it takes to be a good one. An excellent one, in fact. I learned firsthand from the best—my own parents and my grandparents. From church couples whom I’ve long admired, as well, and try to emulate in my relationships with children.”
His brows rose at her mild reprimand.
If he expected her to agree that merely producing a biological child suddenly made someone—him—an expert at parenting, trumping the life experience of growing up in a super-functional family, he’d better not hold his breath.
“Don’t tell me you haven’t thought it,” she prodded gently when he didn’t respond. “Haven’t thought that I’m too young, too inexperienced, too childless to know what I’m doing.”
Guilt flickered through his eyes.
Just what she thought.
“Luke, I’m not telling you how to raise your family. I wouldn’t presume to do that. Your children are wonderful and you’re doing a great job with them. But it may be time to loosen your grip just a bit.”
For a moment his eyes lit with anger, then, just as quickly, that pervasive, underlying sadness surfaced again. Her heart wrenched, knowing she was responsible for it. In defense of herself, she’d gone too far. With the upset he’d had with his kids earlier that morning, he didn’t need to hear this, too.
But, oh, how desperately she wanted to give him a hug. To take him in her arms and reassure him that all would be well. That he didn’t have to try so hard with his kids to make sure that no harm came to them.
That was God’s job.
“Think about it. Please?”
Appearing deep in thought, she wasn’t sure he’d heard her whispered words. But not knowing what else to say
, what else to do, she gently nudged her horse’s sides and moved on down the tree-lined trail.
Chapter Fourteen
“I love horses,” Chloe stated matter-of-factly, drawing Luke’s attention to his daughter seated beside him at the big, pine-shaded picnic table behind the inn. “I’m going to be a cowboy when I grow up.”
Travis, on the other side of her, slipped his arm around her shoulders. “You can’t be a cowboy, Chloe. You’re a girl.”
The teens gathered at their table laughed, but not in a ridiculing way. They liked Chloe and treated her like a much-loved younger sibling.
Chloe raised her chin with the dignity of a princess. “Aunt Rio says some of the best cowboys are girls. So there.”
Seated across from Delaney at the only place available by the time he got there, Luke forked up a slice of sausage. “That sounds like your aunt Rio.”
Chloe studied Delaney curiously. “When you were eight years old, what did you want to be when you grew up?”
All eyes turned to her with interest, including Luke’s.
“Let’s see, eight years old.” She narrowed her eyes in thought. “I think, after my folks took me to a rodeo in Prescott at about that age I wanted to be...”
She paused for dramatic effect.
“A barrel racer!” Chloe cried triumphantly, delighted to have someone else on her, Anna’s and Rio’s side.
“No, not a barrel racer,” Delaney teased as she paused again, obviously enjoying keeping them in suspense. “A...rodeo clown.”
All the kids except Chloe laughed. Luke sent Delaney an amused look, grateful to make a less serious connection with her after their too-recent conversation about parenting. “Why am I not surprised?”
“Girls can be rodeo clowns,” Chloe defended. “They are brave and can run fast and make people laugh, too.”
“What do you want to be when you grow up, Luke?” Delaney countered, an impish gleam now lighting her eyes. Had she hated as much as he did that awkward stretch of time after they’d returned from the ride and got the horses put away and the kids settled in to eat? “I mean, what did you want to be when you were a kid?”
Travis snickered. “Grandma Jo says he wanted to be a superhero.”
Luke drew back in mock offense. “What’s so funny about that? You don’t think I’d look good in a cape and tights?”
Groaning, Travis placed his elbows on the table and lowered his face into his hands. “Thanks a lot, Dad. That’s a visual we all could have done without.”
Laughing, Nelson stood and grabbed his brother by the back of his sweatshirt collar. “Hey, I have to get back to town and run a few errands before I can meet everybody over at the Mason house. And since you drove...”
With a promise to meet at the project location by ten o’clock, the teens stacked their plates, cups and utensils at the end of the table before departing. Chloe leaped up and charged past her uncle Grady as he stepped outside a back door with two heavy-duty, oversize plastic tubs.
Eyeing the dishes, Grady gave a low whistle as he approached. “Looks like a swarm of locusts of Biblical proportion hit this place.”
He winked at Delaney, ever the lady’s man.
Luke shook his head. Back off, little brother. “Thanks for scheduling us in on such short notice.”
“No problem.” With Luke’s help, Grady loaded the bins. Then he picked up one of the overflowing tubs and nodded to the other. “Can you get that one when you’re done here?”
“Sure.”
Grady started to walk away, then set the tub down again and pulled a folded envelope from a back jeans pocket. He dropped it in front of Anna. “This was in the mail when I picked it up last night. Sorry I didn’t get it sorted out until this morning.”
As he headed back inside, Luke’s daughter stared down at the envelope. Then with a gasp, she snatched it up and ripped it open.
“Whatcha have there?” Luke craned his neck. “A love letter?”
“Get real, Dad.” Anna’s anxious eyes scanned the pages with barely concealed excitement.
Luke met Delaney’s questioning gaze, then he shrugged as he lifted the coffee cup to his lips and settled in to wait for his daughter to enlighten them.
“I can’t believe this,” Anna finally said, her words coming softly and Luke again exchanged a glance with Delaney. Then Anna abruptly stood and tossed the papers to the table in front of her. “I give up. Why even try?”
Luke set his cup on the table. “What’s the problem?”
“My English teacher insisted I enter this stupid poetry contest. But I didn’t even make the finals.” She motioned to the papers. “Someone at the contest wrote all over it in red pen, marking stuff out, writing stuff in.”
Anna wrote poetry?
Delaney stretched out her hand. “Can I look at it?”
Anna hesitated, then stepped back from the table. “Go ahead, if you feel like gagging.”
Delaney reached for the papers and spread them out before her, reading silently as Anna hovered nearby. When she finally looked up and smiled into his daughter’s anxious eyes, Luke gave an inward sigh of relief.
“This poem is good, Anna. The metaphor is compelling and tugs at the heart. Your words are fresh and evocative, and the rhythm and alliteration are well suited to free verse.”
Anna’s hopeful gaze searched hers, drinking in the praise but clearly afraid to accept it.
Luke folded his forearms on the table and leaned forward. “It sounds as if you know something about poetry, Delaney.”
“I used to write a lot of it. I loved my English classes.” She looked again to Anna. “I can see why your teacher wanted you to enter it.”
At the mention of the contest, the hope in Anna’s eyes extinguished. “The judge thinks it stinks.”
“I disagree.” Delaney pointed to the margin. “Look at that smiley face. And over here, ‘well done’ and at the bottom, ‘this shows promise.’ I don’t think the intention is to trash it, but you have to remember that this is only one person’s opinion. It’s up to you to decide what you agree with. What you disagree with. Then make only the changes you want to make.”
His daughter made a face. “I’m not making any changes. I didn’t expect to win. I’m done with it.”
Despite the denial, however, she clearly had expected—or at least hoped—to win.
“Some of the most famous poets and writers who ever lived,” Delaney said gently, “were rejected over and over before they were finally published and won readers’ hearts.”
“I hate writing poetry. I only did it for a stupid class.” Anna held out her hand for the pages and Delaney reluctantly returned them to her. Anna stuffed them back in the envelope.
“Thanks for saying nice things, Delaney. But you didn’t have to.” Then without a backward glance, she marched off. Would she tear the poem to shreds or tearfully and tenderly tuck it away somewhere in her room?
Luke toyed with his coffee cup, heart aching, as he watched Anna disappear in the direction of their cabin. Should he go after her or give her some time? He never seemed to know the right thing to do these days. How much simpler it had been when his children were toddlers. You kissed a boo-boo and you were good to go.
“What’s the poem about?” Anna hadn’t shared it with him, but hopefully Delaney saw no harm in enlightening her father.
She didn’t hesitate. “A lost little girl trying to find her way home.”
His eyes searched hers. “Anna?”
She nodded. “I think so.”
“I worry about her. She keeps so much bottled up inside. Several times today I’ve seen more emotion come out of her than in a good long while.”
“Her poem could use polishing, but it’s very good. Your daughter is a deep thinker and in touch
with her feelings. Some of the comments in the margin, the ones I didn’t draw attention to, were callous in my opinion. I don’t want this rather insensitive critique to discourage her from expressing herself that way in the future.”
Luke gripped his coffee cup in both hands, studying Delaney. “Any lessons learned?”
“Unfortunately, I don’t think she’s ready to recognize, let alone embrace, any lessons yet.”
“Actually, I was referring to your situation, not Anna’s.”
From the look in her eyes, his words had caught her off-guard. “What do you mean?”
“I noticed you still aren’t wearing any of your jewelry.” He motioned to her hands splayed flat on the table. “So I assume you’re making no attempt to climb back in the saddle after Sunshine Carston turned you down. Am I wrong?”
She lifted her chin slightly. “That’s different.”
“How so?”
“I happen to be an adult facing the facts. But I don’t want something Anna put a lot of herself into being squashed by a rather harsh critique.” She clasped her hands in front of her on the top of the table. “Anna’s poem is touching and came from the heart. She’s a young girl with talent and dreams that deserve an opportunity to blossom.”
“So big girls,” he said softly, his gaze holding hers, “can’t have talents and dreams that deserve to blossom, too?”
* * *
Delaney couldn’t help but stare into Luke’s eyes.
He took a determined breath. “Don’t let Sunshine Carston dampen your enthusiasm. What is it you told Anna? That’s only one person’s opinion. Everybody needs to have a dream, don’t they?”
“Do you?” she countered, not wanting to talk about what her jewelry making meant to her. How it had filled the lonely hours after the death of her family. How it hurt to have it turned down by the Artists’ Co-op.
He looked slightly taken aback. “Sure. To see my kids happy and healthy and growing up close to God.”
