Two weeks down, one to go.
He stepped inside the mudroom, pulled off his boots and jacket.
“Daddy!” Cheyenne ambushed him.
He scooped her up, swung her around. “How was your day, princess?”
“Resa brought her shell book over. We’re ’dentifying shells we picked up at the beach.”
“Did you bother her about it?”
“Not really.” She ducked her head. “Nette took me to see Peaches and Cream just as Resa was leaving her office, and I asked if I could borrow her book. She offered to bring it over.”
“Okay.” He steeled his spine, tried to erect a cage around his heart.
In the great room, Resa sat on the floor, ankles crossed in front of her. A huge drop cloth covered with piles of shells surrounded her. Annette and Dad were watching from the couch.
“Should you touch those?” Colson asked Resa.
“I checked with my doctor. He said it’s fine as long as they’ve been cleaned. Annette soaked them in vinegar for me.”
“I can help Cheyenne, if you need to go.” Please do.
“I’m finished for the day, so I brought some of my own collection over.”
She looked up at him and her blue eyes almost stole his breath.
“How you feeling?”
“Much better.”
“That’s good. Glad you’re recovering.” He’d shared insight into his marriage and told her he could never trust another woman, as a deterrent. Something, anything to keep her at bay. Before his traitorous heart fully embraced her. But it was obviously too late.
“What’s this one?”
“That’s a spotted slipper limpet.”
“And this one.”
“Hmm.” Resa carefully took the shell from Cheyenne. “I’m not sure. Let’s see if we can find it in the book.”
Heads bent, scanning the pictures, the two looked so much alike. Cheyenne was a mirror image of what Resa must have looked like at that age. She looked and acted more like Cheyenne’s mother than Felicity ever had. If only she could be.
Guilt and longing twisted like a knife in his gut.
“How about some lemonade?” Annette stood. “I’m thirsty.”
“Yes, please.” Cheyenne never looked up from the book.
But Resa did. “I can help.”
“You stay put. Colson will help me.”
Grateful for the escape, he trailed her into the kitchen.
“What’s going on with y’all?” Annette looked up at him with a knowing grin.
“Nothing.” So much for escape. He dug a tray from the cabinet, set it on the kitchen island.
“Don’t give me that. Your father told me y’all were once a thing.”
“A long time ago.” He filled the glasses with ice, hoping the clink and clatter would deter her.
She got the pitcher from the fridge, began filling glasses, but as soon as the ice dispenser stopped, she was on him again. “There’s still something there.”
“She’s my boss. That’s all.”
“Cheyenne told me about Resa’s allergic reaction and how worried you were.”
“I was worried about Cheyenne witnessing the whole thing.”
Annette set the pitcher down. “Listen, I’ve never really tried to mother you, but I have some experience in this area. After my first husband left me, I didn’t want anything to do with men. For years. But after a while, I was lonely.” She traced the condensation on a glass with her finger.
“My daughter was still small when I finally dipped my toes back into the dating pool, but none of the men I met were interested in a package deal. Olivia was my priority, so I gave up, focused on my child until she was grown.”
“And then you met Dad.” Colson set the glasses on the tray. “Who would have loved her when she was young. I could have used your nurturing, too. I’ve often wondered why y’all didn’t meet sooner.”
“Me, too, but it’s all in God’s timing. Not ours. My point is, you don’t have to search for someone to love—who could love Cheyenne. You’ve already found Resa.”
“Whoa. I didn’t say anything about love.”
“Your eyes do when you look at her.” Annette leaned a hip against the island. “What’s holding you back?”
She was on to him. But he couldn’t tell her the truth. That he was holding on to Cheyenne and his secret, that he had no claim on her.
“You can tell me. I won’t say a word. Not even to your dad.”
But he could tell her the rest of it. “Felicity’s life was cut short because of me. I don’t deserve to be happy.”
“Oh, Colson. It was an accident.”
“Was it?” Guilt and shame battled it out, tightening the band of pressure in his chest. “She hurt me so many times. Made my life miserable. Was working on making Cheyenne miserable. I can’t help wondering if deep down, subconsciously, I knew the horse wasn’t ready to be ridden. Maybe I set her up.”
“That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard. You don’t have it in you to hurt anyone. Not even if they hurt you first.”
“Are you sure?”
“Positive.” She reached across the island, gave his hand a squeeze. “You have to let this go. Stop blaming yourself.”
“Even if Felicity’s death was an accident, I’ve made so many mistakes.” Like intentionally withholding the truth from Resa and her parents.
“When you asked Jesus to be your savior, God forgot any past sins, and He’s abundantly merciful toward future ones. He doesn’t keep score on your wrongs. You do. You have to give that to Him. Let Him wipe your slate clean in your heart.”
“I’ll try.” But what about intentionally withholding a truth to protect Cheyenne, to protect himself from losing her, but at the same time hurting the McCalls?
“You do that. And don’t let Resa get away a second time.” The older woman patted his arm before heading back to the great room. “I’ll get the door for you.”
Could his heart take losing Resa again? It didn’t matter. He had no choice. Even if he embraced the notion that he was free to love again, Resa would have nothing to do with him if she knew the truth.
* * *
This had to stop. Spending time with Cheyenne meant Resa was spending too much time with Colson. She shouldn’t have taken her shell book over last night. The little girl was blossoming. She didn’t need Resa. She’d be leaving for Kingsville in just over a week. It would be better for both of them if they weaned themselves of the attachment now. And Resa didn’t need to pine over Colson when he left. Again. She had to stay away from him.
She’d worked all day, with her blinds pulled. No distractions, focused on designing. There weren’t many orders in the lull before Christmas, but she hadn’t come up with a single idea for something new for the showroom.
A tentative knock sounded at the barn door.
She frowned. “Come in.”
“Sorry to bother you.” Colson stuck his head in.
The exact reason she’d pulled her blinds.
“Cheyenne wants to ride Peaches. With you. Are you still open to riding double with her? I know you’re trying to work, but she’s ready now. And I’m afraid if she doesn’t ride, she’ll never be ready again. She insists she’ll only ride with you.”
Despite her misgivings, Resa couldn’t say no to that request. “I’m actually done for the day.” She set her pencil down. Done with nothing. “Be right with you.”
“Thanks.” He closed the door.
She slipped her cell in her pocket and grabbed her jacket. Tried to calm her heartbeat.
As she stepped outside, Cheyenne’s excitement was palpable. “I’m gonna do it, Resa. I’m gonna ride.”
“I’m so proud of you.”
“I’ll get a saddle.” Colson disappeared inside the barn.
Cheyenne couldn’t take her eyes off the mare. “When will Cream be old enough to ride?”
“When she’s about two.”
“Maybe Daddy can train her.”
“Probably not, sweet pea.” Resa rubbed circles on Cheyenne’s back. “By then, you and your daddy will be back in Kingsville.”
“I don’t wanna go back. I wanna stay here with you.” The little girl’s plaintive tone tugged at her.
“Maybe you can come visit me.” Without your father.
“Thanks for all the shells you gave me. After I ride Peaches, can you come to the house with your book again and sort some more?”
“I’m sorry, sweet pea. I’ve got things to do.” Like avoid your daddy. “But you can borrow my book.”
“Okay.” Cheyenne wilted.
Colson came out of the barn with a saddle propped on his shoulder. Hand in hand, Resa and Cheyenne followed him into the barn lot. He nudged Cream to one side, set the blanket in place, lifted the saddle onto Peaches’s back, fastened it, then tested it thoroughly.
“All set here.”
Resa held the reins as she swung up into the saddle, then scooted back to make room for Cheyenne. The smell and creak of leather always warmed her insides.
“You ready?” Colson slipped his hands under Cheyenne’s arms.
She nodded.
He picked her up. “Swing your leg over.”
“This will be so much fun.” Resa helped balance her slight weight. “Once you ride, you’ll never want to stop.”
“Keep it slow,” Colson murmured.
“We have to, for Cream’s sake. She’ll go everywhere we do.”
“I wish I could ride her.” Cheyenne’s voice quivered. “It wouldn’t be as far down.”
“You can get off if you want.” Resa slipped her left arm around Cheyenne’s middle. “But I won’t let you fall. I promise.”
“I want to ride.”
“Hold on tight to the saddle horn.” Colson patted her leg, but his eyes reflected his worry.
“I am, Daddy.”
“We’ll be fine. We’ll just go around the lot once.”
He removed his hand and Resa clicked her tongue, flicked the reins. Peaches walked slowly around the lot with her spindly legged foal by their side.
“This is fun.” Cheyenne relaxed against her.
“It is. I started riding with my mom when I was even younger than you are. I always feel like I’m flying. Especially when I let the horse run.”
“Can we run? I wanna fly.”
“There’s not enough room in the lot, Cream might not be able to keep up, and you need to get used to riding before we try that. It gets pretty bouncy up here when a horse runs.”
They neared where Colson stood, his posture stiff.
“Can we go around again?”
“If it’s okay with your dad.”
“I’m having fun, Daddy. Can I go again?”
“Just one more. Cream might get tired.”
As they rounded the lot again, Cheyenne chattered to the mare. “You’re such a nice horse and your little baby is so pretty.”
They reached Colson again and Resa reined Peaches to a stop.
“That wasn’t scary at all.” Cheyenne reached for Colson.
He lifted her down. “I’m so proud of you.”
“Me, too.” Resa swung down from the saddle and hugged Cheyenne. “You did great.”
“Can I ride again tomorrow?”
“You can ride anytime you like.” Resa tugged the little cowgirl hat down over Cheyenne’s eyes. “As long as your daddy says it’s okay. And I bet next time, he’d like to ride with you instead of me.”
With a giggle, Cheyenne pushed her hat back in place.
“I’ll go get the shell book for you. You can use it for the rest of your stay.”
“Thanks, Resa.”
“You’re welcome.” She slipped back into her office, gathered her things, then exited the side door and strode toward her house.
Inside, she spotted the shell book in her bookcase and pulled it out. She’d been eight when her mom gave it to her for Christmas. They’d spent hours going through it together, learning to identify shells, sorting the ones they had. It had been her mom who taught her to ride horses, too.
Poor Cheyenne. She didn’t have a mom. And despite their shell sorting and horse riding, Resa couldn’t fill that role in the child’s life. In a week, Cheyenne would be gone.
Her heart ached. Would she ever have a family of her own? Maybe when her parents got back, everything would return to normal. Her gaze went to a shelf holding a small display of her favorite family photos.
A picture of Emmett riding his horse caught her attention. He’d been around six, and so much happier then. She missed his smile. His laugh.
Something about those eyes, that laugh... The way he tucked his bottom lip under his teeth sometimes reminded her of someone... Cheyenne. A female version of her brother as a child.
Her gaze moved to a picture of herself. Around seven, hair in pigtails, climbing the ladder to the log bunk bed her father had made for her... Cheyenne looked just like her. Resa shifted her gaze back to Emmett. Cheyenne’s smile was a reflection of his. Her laugh, too. Her gestures. All this time, the child had reminded Resa of someone, but she’d never put it together. Now she could see it was her brother.
Her stomach twisted at the memory of Emmett’s odd reaction when he’d learned Colson had been married. When he’d seen Cheyenne, learned she was Colson’s daughter. His mention that he and Felicity had gone to the same college. And every time Emmett was around, Colson seemed jumpy. He’d admitted that Felicity had cheated on him.
Could Cheyenne be Emmett’s daughter? Resa had bonded with her so quickly. Could she be the little girl’s aunt? Did Colson suspect?
She grabbed the shell book and bolted for the door.
How could she learn the truth? If she was wrong, Colson would be hurt. If she was right and Colson didn’t know, he’d be crushed. She’d have to handle things carefully. But the truth would come out. She’d make certain of it.
Chapter Thirteen
The bell rang and Colson hurried to answer. Probably one of the ranch hands. But when he swung the door open, and Resa stood on the porch, his heart took a dive for her. Again.
“Hey.” She held a book toward him. “I brought the shell book for Cheyenne.”
“Thanks.” His fingers grazed hers, sending the usual jolt through him.
“Can I come in?”
“Um, sure. But I’m the only one about at the moment.” He stepped aside. “Annette is helping Cheyenne get rid of her horsiness, and Dad hasn’t made it home from the store yet.”
“He’s pulling too many hours. I really wish people would think ahead and get their Christmas gifts ordered sooner.” Resa stuck her hands in her pockets and followed him to the great room. She scanned the space, homed in on a grouping of pictures Annette had set up on a bookshelf, and stepped closer.
The skin prickled at the back of his neck. What was she up to?
She picked up a picture of him, Cheyenne and Felicity. “Cheyenne doesn’t look like you or Felicity. I mean, she’s got dark hair like both of you. But her eyes.” She focused on him. “Yours are green and Felicity’s were brown.”
Did she know? A chill went up his spine. “My mother had blue eyes.”
“I guess eye color can skip a generation. Her mannerisms aren’t like you, either, though. I can’t really remember what Felicity was like in school.”
“A lot of her mannerisms are like Felicity’s.” He grabbed the picture, set it down with a thunk. “But I’m trying to make sure she doe
sn’t end up self-centered.”
“Still. She reminds me of someone.” Resa scrutinized him. “I really don’t want to cause you any pain, but given everything you’ve told me about your marriage—” she closed her eyes “—have you ever wondered if Cheyenne might not be yours?”
“Let’s go to your office.” With his hand at the small of her back, he hustled her toward the door. “So we can talk without being overheard.” Maybe he could get by with admitting he wasn’t Cheyenne’s father. Play dumb on who was. Hang on to a scrap of his secret. Hang on to Cheyenne.
Resa kept silent as he matched her quick stride to the barn. She was clearly on a mission to ferret out the truth. He might as well come clean. As they neared the building, she dug the key out of her pocket. Her hands shook as she jammed it in the lock, opened the door. He followed her inside.
“Is Emmett her father?”
No hemming and hawing on her part. “Yes.”
Her eyes flashed and her jaw dropped. “Why didn’t you tell us?” But despite her anger, the crack in her voice obviously came from hurt.
“I’m sorry. I wanted to.”
“I can’t believe this.” She paced back and forth, her steps quick and jerky. “All this time, Emmett’s been a father, I’ve been an aunt, my parents...” Her steps stalled. “She’s their first grandchild and they don’t have a clue she exists.” She whirled toward him. “How could you keep us in the dark all these years?”
“Actually, only two years.” His insides tilted. “Felicity came home drunk that last day and we argued. I made her go outside so Cheyenne wouldn’t hear.” He closed his eyes as her bitter words washed over him.
“She told me to not be concerned about Cheyenne...since she wasn’t even mine. I thought she was just trying to hurt me, but she admitted to a fling with Emmett in college.” Colson clenched his fists. “That’s what we argued about right before she died. I had no idea until then.”
“But you didn’t tell us.”
“Cheyenne was so traumatized. I knew Emmett wasn’t father material, that she’d be better off with me. And I was terrified of losing her.” A tic started up in his jaw muscle. “She’s my little girl. Biology doesn’t determine fatherhood. I’ve been the one to stay up with her all night when she’s sick. To comfort her nightmares away. To kiss her boo-boos. She’s mine.”
A Texas Holiday Reunion Page 13
