Penny seemed to remember him and started a slow, plodding walk toward him. Ethan took out his knife and cut a hunk of the apple and held it out. Penny picked up her pace and came to a stop only a few feet from Ethan. She eyed the offering for a moment, then apparently judged him to be a safe risk. Moving forward, she took the apple, even as Ethan took up her reins.
“Good job, Ethan,” Greeley called out. “The west will make a cowboy of you yet.”
Ethan smiled. “I don’t recall wanting the job.” He stroked Penny’s nose. “I sure wish you could talk. I wish you could take me to Natalie.”
“At least we know she’s somewhere here in the area. The pony’s not lathered or worked up.” Pastor McGuire dismounted and walked to where Penny stood enjoying Ethan’s attention. He forced his fingers between her saddle blanket and back. “She doesn’t feel the slightest bit damp. I’d say she hasn’t had this saddle on long at all. Maybe Natalie rested here for the night and when she went to saddle Penny, she got away from her.”
“That could be,” Ethan said, trying not to worry. “Maybe Natalie is really close,” he added. “Here. I’m going on foot.” He handed Penny over to McGuire. Setting off across the ground to the rocks, Ethan began calling. “Natalie! Natalie, where are you?”
Greeley did likewise, heading downstream.
Ethan felt his heart pounding at a pace he couldn’t hope to calm. He scrambled onto the rock that edged the creek. The wind spit sand against his face momentarily, but once he started climbing down the creek bank, Ethan found himself more sheltered from the wind. “Natalie! Natalie, if you can hear me—answer me!”
“I’m here.” Her voice sounded perturbed.
Ethan strained to listen. “Natalie, where are you?”
“I’m over here.” Exasperation rang clear.
He followed the sound and spied something red sticking out just over the next ridge of rock. Scrambling over the barrier, Ethan came face-to-face with his daughter. She wore a red oblong cap that tied under her chin and a dark brown jacket that had what appeared to be a fresh tear on the sleeve. A cut on her forehead and some scratches on her face and hands were the worst of her injuries—as far as Ethan could tell. She looked otherwise unharmed but very annoyed.
Sitting there, elbows on her knees, face in her hands, as if contemplating what was to be done, Natalie looked like someone who’d rather be left alone. Ethan didn’t care. He was so happy to see her safe that he acted without thinking. Picking her up, he hugged her close.
“Oh, Natalie, I thought we’d lost you for good. We found Penny, but we had no idea if you were hurt or worse.” He couldn’t even bring himself to suggest that she could have died.
“Penny lost her footing on the edge. It wasn’t her fault. I was too close. I fell off and Penny ran away,” Natalie said matter-of-factly. “Please put me down.”
Ethan did as she asked. “We’ve been looking all over for you,” he said, continuing his mental inventory. She didn’t appear to have any broken bones, but the bump on her head was bleeding. “Your mother is sick with worry.” Ethan reached out to touch her, but Natalie withdrew and crossed her arms.
“Is she all right?” Pastor McGuire called from where he stood with the horses.
Ethan called back, “She’s fine. Would you please leave Penny and the mount you lent me and go notify the others that she’s all right and that we’re heading home?”
“Of course,” Pastor McGuire replied. “Natalie, I’m so relieved to see you’re all right. We’ve sure been praying for you.”
“Oh, Pastor McGuire, would you also let Ashley know we’re coming home?”
The man grinned down at them. “I’d be delighted.”
Ethan looked down at his daughter. “You ready to head back?”
Natalie only shrugged and stared at the creek. Once the pastor and Greeley had taken off to alert the others, Natalie sat down again. The anger in her voice was apparent. “Why didn’t you tell me the truth? I’m not a baby, you know.” She looked at him, her brows knitted together. “I thought we were friends.”
“We are friends, Natalie.” Ethan sat down on the rock opposite her. “I didn’t know the truth at first. You told me your father died in the war and I presumed he had. I sure didn’t expect to find out that I was really your father. In fact, I didn’t know the truth of it until I came face-to-face with your mother that day you introduced us outside the ice-cream store.”
“You could have said something then.” She looked back at the water instead of him.
“I thought it would be unfair to your mother. I figured I should tell her in private.”
“But you didn’t. You had lots of time to do it, but you didn’t tell her. Why? Are you ashamed of us? Were you just going to leave without telling us?”
Ethan thought his heart might break at this statement. “Of course not. It had nothing to do with you and your mother. It had everything to do with me—with who I was inside.”
“That doesn’t make sense,” Natalie said, getting to her feet. “You lied to me.”
Ethan shook his head. “I didn’t lie to you. You never asked me if I was your father. You made it clear you wanted a new father—a husband for your mother—but you didn’t ask me if I was Ethan Reynolds.” He spoke softly, trying to be honest yet careful. He wanted to calm her down, but her growing anger was apparent. “Natalie, I didn’t say anything because I didn’t want you to be hurt.”
“Well, I am hurt, and I’m mad too.” She stomped across the rocks to where the pastor had left Penny and the black mount.
Ethan followed quickly, not willing to let her get away from him again. He helped her up onto Penny, then noticing the lump on her forehead, thought better of it. “Maybe you should ride with me. You’ve hit your head pretty hard, and I don’t want you passing out.”
“I’m not going to pass out.” She tossed her pigtails over her shoulder and tried hard to look older than she was. “I told you, I’m not a baby.”
Ethan’s heart went out to her. He stood beside Penny, holding the pony in place. “Natalie, I don’t blame you for being mad at me, but please listen. I didn’t mean for you to be hurt in this. I wanted to talk to your mother first—to see if there was some way we could work everything out.”
“Where were you all those years? Mama said you were dead. Did she lie to me too?”
Ethan felt panicked at the question. How could he explain? He certainly couldn’t tell her that her grandmother had lied to him—not without making a bad situation worse. “No. Your mother had no idea until you heard her talking to me. The army had told her I was dead. She really thought I was. And remember, I thought she was dead because someone told me she’d died from the influenza. We had no idea either one was still alive, or we would have been together.
“Furthermore, I didn’t know about you at all. Your mama had never told me she was going to have a baby. You know that’s true—your mama told you that much.” Natalie nodded but only slightly. He continued. “When I heard you talking about your father and how he died a hero in the war, and then later when you told me what your mother’s name was—I couldn’t believe it. It was so shocking to me that I was almost sick from it. I couldn’t believe I’d lost all those years and that I had a daughter.”
“But how could Mama not know it was you?”
“I don’t look like I did when we married. I have glasses and a beard now. I’ve had a lot of surgery on my face too. Your mama might have had suspicions about me, but she didn’t know until yesterday. She saw the picture I’d sketched for you. That’s why I’d asked you to keep it out of sight. I knew if she saw it, she would probably know the truth, and I hadn’t had a chance to talk to her yet.”
“Were you really going to talk to her?” Natalie asked. She looked down at him with an expression that betrayed all of her mistrust. “Or were you going to just leave us when you were done building the hotel?”
“Natalie, I always planned to tell your mama. That day we went to the m
eteorite crater, I wanted to have a long talk and tell her the truth. I knew you’d be busy, with the way you like to hike around and explore. I thought while you were playing, I could tell her who I was and see what she wanted to do about it. I thought by telling her there, she couldn’t run away from me and not listen. Like you did.”
Natalie’s frown deepened. “Then why didn’t you tell her?”
“Her friends interrupted my discussion with her and I couldn’t. I really wanted her to know the truth. I wanted you to know the truth too.”
“It’s not fair. I wanted you for my new daddy. I don’t want you to be my old daddy.”
“But, Natalie, I’m the same man.” And in that moment, Ethan knew the truth for himself. He was the same man. The war hadn’t robbed him of everything. “Natalie, I want very much for us to be a family. I want to love you and be there for you. I want to teach you about drawing and architecture. I can’t turn back the hands of time, but we can make a good try at the future.”
“But it changes everything,” Natalie said, her voice quivering with emotion.
“Yes. Yes, it really does. You’ve been living a certain way all these years, and now it will change. But I’d like to think that it will be a good change.”
Natalie said nothing, and Ethan could clearly see the confusion on her face. She was wrestling with this new status—with the truth of who he was. She looked at him oddly for a moment, scrutinizing him as if seeing him for the first time.
“You aren’t the way I thought you’d be. My mama told me stories about you and her. You aren’t like she described.”
“No, I don’t imagine so. I look different . . . and I’m a different person inside,” Ethan admitted.
“Now I won’t get to have my picture taken with the veterans,” she said, looking away.
Ethan thought he saw tears in her eyes but decided not to make any comment about them. “Natalie, you’re still one very important little girl. Your mother loves you and so do I.”
“But people are going to treat me different. With you alive, it changes everything.”
Ethan wasn’t sure he understood her comment, but he did realize the change in her life was more than a little upsetting. Natalie desperately needed to figure out how to make sense of this situation. She needed to know how she would fit in once everything was out in the open.
She looked at him, and this time he could see the tears. “People won’t care about me anymore. They only loved me ’cause my daddy was a war hero.”
“I seriously doubt that, Natalie.” Ethan reached up to touch her cheek. “I think they love you because you’re you—a sweet, wonderful little girl. Don’t think them so shallow to only care about you because of what I did in the war.”
“Can we go home?” she asked, wiping her nose with the back of her hand.
Ethan nodded. “Sure.”
He took up the reins and mounted his horse. They rode toward Winslow in silence. How, he wondered, could he make this better for her? Should he try harder to explain? Should he stay out of the picture until Natalie and Ashley had a chance to work through the situation for themselves?
“I don’t feel good,” Natalie said, breaking the silence.
Ethan pulled up alongside Natalie. She looked pale. “Give me Penny’s reins.”
He wrapped the reins around the saddle horn, then reached out to take hold of Natalie. “I’ll hold you in front of me, and then if you feel sick you won’t fall off.”
She nodded and willingly went to him. Ethan pulled her close and wrapped his arms around her. Every protective instinct in him took over. He wanted to shelter her from all the hurts in the world. He wanted to snap his fingers and make her feel better.
“You won’t let Penny get away, will you?” she asked, leaning her head against his chest.
“Nope . . . and I won’t let you get away either.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Ashley moved through the day in a leaden manner. Food had no taste; the air felt stale and lifeless. She could focus on nothing but Natalie. But already it was nearly three and still no word.
Lavelle had taken herself off to church after Ashley’s outbursts earlier. She told Ashley she hoped to answer any questions that friends of Grandpa Whitman might have regarding the funeral and also stave off the curiosity of those who wondered why Natalie ran away.
Ashley’s mother had locked herself upstairs and hadn’t bothered to reappear until around noon, when she descended the stairs and partook of a cup of coffee. Her demeanor had changed. Surprisingly, she was very quiet. She asked about Natalie, then had the good graces to say nothing more when Ashley had replied that her daughter was still missing. After that, Leticia had taken herself back upstairs. Ashley had been delighted not to have to deal with her.
Lavelle checked in shortly after Leticia’s appearance, then announced she was going to walk around the town and see if she could learn anything about Natalie. Ashley felt completely abandoned, yet at the same time, she knew she could bear the hours better on her own than in trying to make senseless conversation while her heart and mind were elsewhere.
Working in the kitchen, Ashley decided to bake a batch of Natalie’s favorite sugar cookies. The deed made her feel more confident that Natalie would be found safe and returned home before she spent another night in the desert.
Ashley was just retrieving the first batch when her mother reappeared in the kitchen. She was dressed in her going-out suit, a dress and jacket of dark purple, trimmed in black braid. Her hat was perched to one side, her gloves were in her hands, and her pocketbook hung from her left arm.
“Are you going somewhere?” Ashley questioned, knowing it was too late for church.
“I’m moving into the Harvey House. I’ve arranged for them to pick up my things later this afternoon.”
Ashley stared openmouthed at her mother. She couldn’t help it. To hear her mother’s declaration without snide comment or cruel remark was totally out of character.
“I know you’re surprised,” Leticia said, looking at her daughter with an expression that seemed to suggest regret. “I don’t wish to further grieve you.”
“Why this sudden change of heart?” Ashley asked. She went back to the task at hand and began removing the cookies from the pan. She could scarcely believe her mother’s civility.
“You did make the request and it is your home,” she said rather sternly. “Besides, I plan to leave immediately following Father’s funeral on Wednesday. I might as well be near the train station.”
Ashley couldn’t stand it. She had to know why her mother was suddenly acting so genteel. She put the pan down and turned around. “Mother, why? This isn’t your style. I don’t understand. You had plans to fight me for this house and to change Grandpa’s funeral and make a big issue out of the settlement of his estate. Now you sound as though you have accepted it all.”
“I have accepted it,” Leticia replied. “I know when to leave a thing alone. Father made certain provisions, and those provisions, if altered, will bring about consequences that I’m not willing to pay. Not that I’d have it to pay—not now.”
Ashley still didn’t know what to make of her mother’s new attitude. “You aren’t usually given to walking away from a fight. Why this time? Why now?”
Her mother’s expression grew harsh. “It’s really none of your concern what I do. You made that choice long ago.”
All of Ashley’s defenses rose to the occasion. “No, you made it for me,” she replied. “I wasn’t of a mind to never see you again. You’re the one who told me to never come back—that I was dead to you. You turned your back on me when I needed you most.”
“You ruined the plans your father and I had. Plans that we needed for the benefit of the family.”
Ashley had never truly understood this. “Why?”
Her mother looked uncomfortable. “It’s water under the bridge now and none of your business.”
“It is my business,” Ashley insisted. “It foreve
r changed my life and that of my child. I feel I’m entitled to know.”
Leticia looked away and cleared her throat. “We needed your marriage to the Manchester family. We had arranged it in a somewhat tentative agreement; then you up and married Ethan Reynolds.” She looked back at Ashley. “Your father suffered a tremendous financial setback because of that. I had to cancel our European plans and fire two housemaids in order to trim our budget.”
“I had no idea.” Ashley hadn’t realized her actions had made any real impact on the family.
“Your father had to sell some investments in order to keep your brothers in college. Of course, Mathias had landed a solid job with the bank, but the other two would need help in setting up their livelihoods once they finished their degrees. It wasn’t an easy time, but your father forbade me to say anything to you about it.” She lifted her chin defiantly. “I thought when your husband died that this was a reprieve for us. I began to immediately set plans in motion to revive the original agreement. It might have worked too, but you refused to even consider it.”
“I was carrying Ethan’s baby. What man of social standing was going to overlook that little bit of information?” Ashley asked matter-of-factly. Some of the bitterness faded from her heart.
“I didn’t know about that. You only mentioned being unable to love again. That was nonsense in my book. Many women marry without benefit of love. I did. I saw no reason for you not to do the same.”
“But had I known you were motivated out of need, rather than mere greed—”
“You would have acted no differently,” her mother interrupted. “You and I both know that. You were lost in your grief and pain, and you cared nothing for mine.”
Ashley knew it was true. It pricked at her conscience. Forgive her, that still, small voice whispered deep from within.
“I’m sorry, Mother. I truly am. You’re absolutely right. I was very self-absorbed those days. When you told me you wanted nothing more to do with me, I convinced myself that I wanted nothing more to do with you as well. Grandpa always wanted me to contact you and let you know our whereabouts, but I wouldn’t do it, nor would I let him. He’d told me how you’d treated him—how you’d demanded your inheritance and how he gave up trying to reason with you. I’ve never understood how you could have done that.”
[Desert Roses 02] - Across the Years Page 25
