Inheritance of Love

by Linda Ford

  He sat beside her again and the conversation returned to camping. He told of trips with his father and then, later, with Rob.

  Darcy tried not to think how Blake enjoyed the father things with Rob she'd been denied. She no longer blamed Blake. But she was grateful when he switched the topic to something else. She loved listening to him. The way his voice filled with pride as he talked about belonging to a beef club and showing his first steer. She laughed when he told how his dad saved the day when his steer got loose and headed for home.

  Suddenly, he turned so he could look into her face. The flame caught in his eyes and seemed to go deeper, as if burning into his soul. "I just realized something. I haven't talked this much about my parents and Rob since—" His mouth pulled down at the corners as he stared at her. He blinked. "Well, I suppose since my dad died. I didn't want to talk about it because—" Again he paused and searched her face.

  Darcy held his gaze steadily, wondering what he sought and if he would find it in her or be disappointed?

  10

  Blake's smile deepened and pleasure spilled through Darcy. "I guess I was afraid of my feelings. Losing the three most important people in your life is overwhelming. I don't know when my good memories of them became more powerful than the pain." He touched her cheek and the warmth inside her rushed to that spot like iron filings to a magnet. "Thank you for helping me see that." He settled back, sighing. "I know I won't ever stop missing any of them but there are so many good things to remember."

  "Tell me more about Amy as a baby."

  He chuckled. "She never lacked for attention with three doting adults but Mom insisted she had to accept certain boundaries. She was right. That early teaching has made Amy a good kid."

  "How did she handle losing both her parents?" She wanted to know if Amy blamed herself? Did she feel abandoned?

  "In both cases, we knew ahead of time so Mom and Rob took care to prepare her. I guess it helped. She didn't quite grasp Mom's death but when Rob died—" He broke off and rubbed the bridge of his nose.

  Darcy reached for his hand.

  "She took it a lot harder. She cried for about three days. After the funeral, she retreated to her room and refused to talk to anyone. I let her be but I heard her talking to her stuffed animals. Then she seemed to be okay, but she has nightmares that I think are related to it."

  "It's an awful thing for a child her age to face." Darcy was doing her best not to let her own feelings get mixed up with her sister's. Darcy's loss was in the past. Gone. Forgotten. Forgiven. Erased by God's love. Yet at times still very much alive and full of sharp edges.

  Her daddy had left because—Darcy had always feared it was because of her. She hadn't been good enough, smart enough, happy enough. Her rational self said it wasn't the case. But that other side, the one that insisted on dreaming impossible dreams still wondered quietly and insistently. Wasn't I good enough?

  "Amy knew she was loved." Her voice felt impossibly tight, a sure giveaway she was letting her emotions get out of hand. She hoped Blake wouldn't be able to tell.

  "Amy is still loved." He sounded fierce. "She will always be loved."

  "I didn't mean—" She'd only been thinking of her father. No. Truth was, she was only thinking about herself and she was deeply remorseful. "I'm sorry. Of course, she is. It's obvious how much you care about her. I do too."

  He stiffened.

  If she hoped to avoid a confrontation on the subject, she needed to find a new topic real quick. "Do you often get storms like this in April?" she asked.

  "Once in ten years is too often in my opinion. But they aren't unexpected. This is Montana. And we're close to the mountains. Three years ago we had a major storm in May." He went on to describe the storm and she settled back, enjoying his stories and grateful to have sidestepped an argument about her role in Amy's life.

  As Blake told about a storm that brought a tree down, destroying the house his grandfather had been raised in, Amy started to cry.

  They both jerked to their feet and rushed to the child. Darcy held back as Blake bent over her and shook her gently. "Amy, honey, wake up." He glanced over his shoulder to Darcy. "One of her nightmares." He scooped Amy into his arms, talking to her softly.

  Darcy knew the minute Amy woke up. Her cry ended in a gasp. She stared into Blake's face and then sobbing, buried her head against his shoulder. He carried her to the couch and sat rocking her and murmuring softly.

  Darcy sat beside them aching to ease Amy's pain but all she could think to do was rub her sister's back and add her voice to Blake's.

  After a few minutes, Amy's sobs stopped. She spoke around hiccups. "I dreamed I was stuck in a hole. I kept calling and calling Daddy. He just stood there and didn't help me. Why wouldn't he help me?"

  Blake held the child close. "It was just a dream."

  Darcy's eyes stung. Try telling a child her dreams didn't mean anything. She couldn't forget a similar dream. Only she was trapped in a box. And no one answered her cries. Her mother assured her the dream meant nothing. But at six, Darcy had known it did. It meant nobody cared. She pushed the memory away. "Amy, honey. It's okay. It's your mind telling you how much you miss your daddy. He can't be here to help you any more but Blake is. If you need something, you call Blake."

  "I'll be here for you," Blake said.

  Amy nodded. "I miss Daddy."

  "Of course you do." Blake cupped her head in his big hand and pressed her cheek to his shirt. "I do too."

  Amy grabbed Darcy's hand. "Do you too, Darcy?"

  There was no way to explain to the child she'd stopped missing him years ago. "Of course I do sweetheart." Her throat clogged with tears. She missed him in her own way. But she didn't dare dredge up those feelings of abandonment. They were too vicious. Please, God. Help me remember that You care. You are a father to the fatherless.

  Amy fell asleep again, and Blake put her down and covered her. Darcy returned to the couch while Blake tended the fire. She must have fallen asleep because she woke when Blake got up to put more wood on the fire. She lay stretched out on the couch, a blanket over her. She sat up and peered over the back. Amy slept in the loveseat.

  "Go back to sleep," Blake murmured. "Everything is okay."

  And believing him, she lay down and slept.

  Blake struggled from his sleep and slipped from the recliner to put more wood on the fire. Amy hadn't wakened with another dream. Aunt Betty moved restlessly on the couch, coughing now and then. Darcy lay on her side, her dark hair loose around her face.

  Everyone was safe from the storm.

  Darcy sighed and shifted. For a moment he thought she looked at him then the fire flared and he could tell she slept. Even with her eyes closed, her resemblance to Amy was strong. But Darcy was even more like Rob than Amy.

  Why had there never been contact between them? There must be more than Darcy admitted or knew.

  Aunt Betty coughed again and moaned. Darcy sat up and looked about her confused. Then she yawned and stretched like a cat.

  "Is it still storming?" she murmured, her voice thick with sleep.

  "Yep."

  Aunt Betty struggled to sit up. "My throat is very sore. Is there something hot to drink?" She swayed, moaned and lay down again. "I'm sick."

  Great, Blake thought. Do your best to take care of everyone but there was so much you couldn't protect them from.

  "I'll get you something," Darcy said, pushing to her feet. "What would you like?"

  "Lemon tea," Aunt Betty croaked.

  Gray light struggled through the windows as Darcy went to the kitchen to find the things she needed to meet Aunt Betty's request.

  Blake headed after her but only made three steps before Amy woke, crying. "My throat hurts."

  He turned back to comfort the child. "You and Aunt Betty are sick."

  Amy whimpered. "Where's Darcy?"

  Darcy called from the other room. "I'm here. Would you like a nice hot drink?"

  Amy tried to speak but grabbed her
throat and nodded instead.

  "That's affirmative," Blake called. "There's lemonade mix on the lazy Susan. I'll get the kettle."He filled the kettle from their store of bottled water and hung it over the fire to heat.

  Together, he and Darcy prepared hot drinks.

  "What about food?" Darcy asked as they huddled side by side on the couch. "We'll need to eat."

  "What can we do over the fireplace?" He vowed he'd get a new generator the next time he went to town. He wouldn't leave himself or his family exposed to such hardship again. Family? Amy and Aunt Betty were his family now. And Darcy? She'd be gone as soon as her holiday was over. What were the chances they'd see her again? Not very likely if her past was any indication. He mentally pulled his family circle tight, leaving Darcy outside. He liked the woman but he had no room in his life for a leaving kind of girl.

  "If you have a big pot to hang where the kettle is I could boil eggs for breakfast and make soup for later," Darcy said.

  "Sounds like just what we need." He glanced at the two sick people behind him. When Darcy started to get up, he grabbed her hand and pulled her back down beside him. "Finish your tea first. We have all day."

  He found a suitable pot. She boiled eggs while he toasted bread over the fire. They offered a nice breakfast to both Amy and Aunt Betty who nibbled at their soft-boiled eggs then pushed away the rest.

  "I should feel guilty about being so hungry when they're sick," Blake murmured as he chowed down.

  "But you don't." Darcy laughed. "And neither do I. I only hope I don't get what they have."

  They finished up and stacked the dirty dishes in the dishwasher. Darcy checked the two patients and passed out acetaminophen tablets. Both settled back and fell asleep.

  Darcy filled the pot with a mixture of vegetables, tomato juice and sausage and left it to simmer over the fire. Delicious aromas made Blake's mouth water.

  Darcy yawned and stretched. "Now what do we do?" She looked around the room. "I suppose I could sort another box of my father's papers."

  Memories of Rob were the last thing he wanted crowding his mind. "Forget it. How about looking at a photo album of Amy as a baby?"

  Her eyes sparkled with interest. "I'd love to."

  He found the album in the big chest under the window and they sat close together the album balanced on both their knees. He took her through the first few years of Amy's life. A time filled with sweet, safe memories. "Life seemed so simple then. I knew mom's heart wasn't strong but it seemed she'd survived the pregnancy and delivery and regained her strength. I guess I didn't want to believe otherwise."

  "Of course you didn't. Why let fears rob you of enjoying the present?"

  "That's your philosophy, isn't it?"

  She looked thoughtful a moment. "I suppose it is." She regarded him seriously. "What's yours?"

  He looked at the fire. "I don't think I've ever thought about it, but I suppose I'd more likely want to hunker down and pull everything I cared about close to me and hang on."

  She nodded slowly as if she understood his statement. And if she did, she saw more clearly than he. "And shut the rest of the world out to make sure it doesn't upset your little world."

  "You make me sound like a selfish kid clutching his stash of toys to his chest and refusing to let anyone play with him."

  "No. Not like that. Your world sounds nice to me. A safe, secure place. But that isn't my world. Never has been. So I've learned to look outside myself and enjoy the journey." She tipped her head, her blue eyes flashing a bright reflection from the fire. "I don’t see you as being selfish so much as protective of both those you love and your own heart."

  "I'm responsible for my family. It's not something I take lightly."

  "I'd have to be blind not to see that. But I think you shut your heart against risks." She shrugged. "But what do I know? I'm playing armchair psychologist. You probably have a serious love interest I'm unaware of."

  He laughed at that. "Depends what you mean by love interest. Mrs. Shaw, one of our neighbors, has a lovely daughter she's handpicked to be my bride."

  He leaned closer at the way Darcy's eyes darkened. Was she jealous?

  "No doubt a very suitable match."

  He delighted in the way her mouth puckered as she spoke. "Absolutely."

  Her frowned deepened.

  He couldn't resist stringing her along. "She's ranch-born and raised. Can ride and rope with the best of them. She's the one who always needles the calves in the spring." Seeing her startled look, he explained. "She gives the calves their vaccinations. She's quick and efficient. I couldn't ask for better. On top of that, she's a very good teacher right here in Blissdale."

  "A truly remarkable woman." Darcy sounded anything but impressed.

  "Only one problem."

  She looked suitably shocked. "The woman has a flaw?"

  He shrugged. "Probably not. But I guess I do. I can only see her as one of the guys. I'm just not interested in her as a woman." He didn't have room in his life for any more women. He turned his attention back to the photo album. "Here's Amy's third birthday party."

  They bent together to study the people in the pictures. Did she linger longer on the ones with Rob in them? Was she beginning to see he was a good father to both Blake and Amy? Again that question—why not with Darcy? What had gone wrong?

  The next page held a picture he'd forgotten. His mother holding Amy as she opened gifts. The look on his mother's face said so much. Sad, yet full of love and pride. She must have known then she wouldn't be around to see Amy grow up. How had she been able to sit through this party and smile at everyone? How had he been so blind he hadn't seen it coming?

  Because he'd purposely chosen to ignore the signs. He wanted to protect himself from the pain of acknowledging her failing health. Maybe it wasn't such a bad way to be. Shut out pain. Don't give it a chance to linger. Don't even take give it an opportunity to visit.

  Darcy chuckled at the picture of Amy ripping open presents. Her arm pressed against his, warm and soft. Her hand brushed his as she turned a page. He could let himself get really interested in this woman. After all, she was fun and caring. But doing so meant doing exactly what he'd so firmly avoided for years. It meant opening his heart to risk. Letting one more person into his world to be responsible for. And to face the chance of losing.

  He wasn't prepared to do that. She'd be gone in a few more days and he'd say goodbye without any cracks in his heart.

  As the day grew long, Amy's temperature rose and they kept busy sponging her. Aunt Betty too grew more miserable. She tried to get up to give her cat its needed shots but swayed so alarmingly, Blake insisted she stay in bed. "We'll look after the cat."

  Darcy held up her hands and grimaced. She turned away so Aunt Betty couldn't hear her and whispered. "The old thing gives me the creeps." So Blake gave the cat the needle.

  Between caring for the sick humans, the half dead cat, filling the kettle, making hot drinks and serving soup, the day passed. Blake barely had time to look out the window and hope his herd found shelter and safety in some trees.

  The gray light faded and the room grew gloomy.

  Amy and Aunt Betty refused anything to eat and settled into an uneasy sleep.

  Blake and Darcy sat together on the couch as they enjoyed the last of the soup. The evening hours passed as they talked about growing up and school days.

  Darcy was amazed to hear that Blake took all his schooling at Blissdale. "The same school for twelve years. It's amazing. I went to at least that many schools."

  "Why did you move so often?"

  "Mom liked moving."

  "You didn't mind?"

  "I didn't know it wasn't normal until I was a teenager."

  "Do you feel the same need to move all the time?"

  "I haven't moved in three years if that means anything. I guess I could see moving if there was a need but just to move? Nah. Not for me."

  "Where's your mom now?"

  Darcy laughed. "Now that'
s the funny thing. She met a guy in California. She used to go there almost every winter for the beaches. Anyway they married a couple of years ago, and she lives there. Hasn’t moved once since she married him. Of course, they go on lots of holidays so I suppose that meets her need."

  Blake tried to fit Rob into this constant moving scenario and failed. "I can't see Rob liking that sort of thing. He could hardly bring himself to leave the ranch for any reason."

  "You don't have to tell me."

  "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to remind you."

  She sighed. "Not to worry. Remember my philosophy—enjoy what God gives—the present. Besides, why is it you can't accept I lost my father years ago? Why do you want me to go over it all again? Why is it so important to you?"

  He considered her question. Why did it matter so much to him? "Partly because I think you're avoiding the past but also because I think it isn't fair to Rob's memory that you keep dismissing him as if he died a long time ago. There had to be something more to his not going back to see you."

  She stared straight into his eyes, her eyes flashing. "Like I was such a terribly bad kid he just had to get away from me. Or my mom was a mean drunk."

  "It doesn't seem like your mother was like that." He studied her features. The narrow chin. Was it quivering? Her clean skin. He touched her cheek. Smooth as a spring breeze and kissed by the warmth of the fire. He caught a strand of hair that drifted across her cheek and tucked it behind her pretty little ear. Everything about her was so soft. "One thing I'm certain of, it wasn't because of you. You have a sweet, generous nature. You enjoy life and help others enjoy it too." Too bad he wouldn't be enjoying it long term.

  11

  Darcy woke next morning to the sun streaming across her face. She blinked, disorientated, then remembered where she was—sleeping on the couch in Blake's living room as they waited out the storm. Only the bright sunlight announced the storm had ended.