Finn, who was listening from the other side of the yard, gave Jack a look.
Jack glared right back. “I know you’re a war hero, but not everyone’s like that. Some people get themselves injured on purpose so they can come home. Maybe that was Pam.”
“Humph.” Finn went over to a different side of the fence to work.
“Could it have been an accident?” Jack asked.
“Nope,” Carson said. “There was a note. Lily had it.” He paused. “She had it all along, but she didn’t see fit to tell me until I forced the issue.”
“Whoa.”
They worked in silence for a while longer. Then Jack spoke. “Lily didn’t keep that information from you for a bad reason. She knew it would hurt you, right? She was trying to spare you pain.”
“I guess.”
“So maybe you should talk to her.” Then Jack lifted his hands like stop signs. “Although, don’t listen to me. I know nothing about love. Never going there again.”
“Never?” Carson was genuinely curious. He didn’t know much about Jack’s past, aside from the fact that he’d unexpectedly lost his wife at a young age, right after they’d adopted a baby.
“Never.” Jack shook his head. “Me and women don’t get along.”
Finn carried a load of planks over their way. “If you like Lily, go after her. Don’t get caught up in stubborn pride, like I did. I almost lost Kayla and Leo because of it.”
Carson remembered those days, when Finn had spiraled into darkness caused by his past tragedy, and Kayla and Leo had packed up to leave the ranch. It had almost had a disastrous outcome, but with God’s help, Finn and Kayla had overcome their hurdles and built a happy life together.
Funny how much easier it was to see that happen in others than to believe it could happen for him.
“Listen, Carson.” Jack glanced over at Finn, who came to stand beside him. “Even before what you said today, we...well, we were thinking you should talk to someone about Pam.”
He leveled a glare at them. “Who’s we? And talk to who?”
“Us,” Finn said. “We think you should talk to a counselor.”
“Because you’re miserable,” Jack said.
“And you pushed a good woman away,” Finn added.
Jack pulled out his phone. “I called around. There are a couple counselors in the area who might be able to help.”
“I can find my own therapist!” Carson narrowed his eyes at the pair. “How long have you been planning this conversation?”
They glanced at each other and shrugged at the same moment.
“I’m sending you names,” Jack said. “Call somebody, man. Talk to someone.”
“Do it.” Finn, the taciturn giant, took a step closer and glared at Carson.
“Fine, I’ll call,” he groused as Jack’s information pinged into his phone. But even through his annoyance at their interference, Carson felt grateful for friends who cared enough to do it.
Chapter Fourteen
After paying the Uber driver, Lily stood in the lightly falling snow and stared at her old home in Kansas City. Once a nice neighborhood, the area had gone downhill in recent years, with more people leaving their lawns uncared for and bars on many windows. For all that, a lump came into her throat.
This had been home to her. She’d ridden her bike up and down the street, had climbed the apple tree that still remained in the front yard. She’d sat on those porch steps, banished to them while her father and mother had it out inside. She’d brought stacks of library books home and read them, getting lost in another world.
This had also been her base of operations when she’d gone so wild as a teenager. She’d been the kid whose parents didn’t check into things too closely, which gave her house appeal as a party spot.
But there had been good times with her parents, if her dad was home and sober and her mom was over whatever hurt or anger he’d last inflicted on her. She remembered building a snowman with both of them when she was barely as tall as the porch railing, how her father had lifted her up to put in the snowman’s carrot nose.
Just as she’d done with Carson’s twins.
The thought of the girls made her throat tighten. And the thought of Carson brought downright misery.
She’d handled everything wrong. She should have told him the truth right away. Yes, she’d been trying to prevent his being hurt, but it had all backfired so badly.
In the end, she’d been to blame for Pam’s death. There was no way to get around that.
And there was no way Pam’s husband and daughters could love someone who’d done something so awful.
Despair threatened to crush her down, down, down onto the snowy, broken sidewalk, so she did as her army therapist had always told her to do: she concentrated on now. She walked the neighborhood, knocking on doors of homes whose occupants she remembered, asking questions. If she could find her father, maybe she could help him. Do for him what she hadn’t been able to do for Pam.
An hour later, she hadn’t gotten a single lead, and she stood staring at her old house again. Down the street, children played. A car door slammed. Lily bit her lip and pondered what to do next. Had this trip been a mistake?
“Is it what you remembered?”
Lily spun to the familiar voice. “Aunt Penny! What are you doing here?”
Penny put an arm around her and smiled. “When you called to see if I had an address for your dad, I figured you’d come here searching for him. I had a day before I had to get back to the ranch, and some frequent flyer miles, so...it was easy to come.”
“That was so kind of you!” Tears welled in Lily’s eyes. She’d never have expected her aunt to go so far out of her way for her.
“Just making up for what I wish I’d done years ago,” Penny said matter-of-factly, looking around. “Your father doesn’t still live here?”
“No. It’s listed under a different owner.” Lily gave Penny a quick hug, then turned to face the house. “I was just thinking about all the times we had here, good and bad. I remember when you came to visit, too.”
Aunt Penny shook her head. “I should have come more. Your mom wasn’t strong enough to give you what you needed. I wish I’d stepped in, even taken you to live with me.”
“She wouldn’t have allowed it,” Lily said automatically, and realized that it was true. For all her mother’s complaints and criticisms, she would never have let Lily be raised by anyone but her.
And that meant that her mother had loved her, even if she’d been too troubled to show it all the time.
“Any clues about your dad’s whereabouts?” Penny asked.
“Not yet. The neighbors I remember don’t live here anymore.”
“What about him?” Penny pointed at a burly, white-haired African American man who’d just come around the side of the house next door, pushing a snowblower. His was one of the few cleaned-off driveways on the street.
“I don’t think I know him, but—”
“But he might know something about your dad.”
“Let’s go ask.”
The man shut down his snowblower and greeted them with a friendly smile, and after they’d all introduced themselves, Lily explained who they were looking for.
“I sure do remember him,” the man, Mr. Ross, said, smiling more broadly as he shook his head a little. “Quite a character.”
“So you know him!” Hope rose in Lily’s heart.
“Any idea where he’s living now?” Penny asked.
“Not sure,” the man admitted. “But he was attending a program at the Church of the Redeemer, downtown. They might know more.”
“He goes to church?” Lily couldn’t restrain her surprise. While she and her mother had occasionally attended church during Lily’s childhood, her father had adamantly refused to go along.
A smi
le curved up the man’s face. “I wouldn’t say he was attending steady, but he seemed to be moving in that direction. We had a few talks, he and I. He was lonely after losing his wife, looking for comfort in a bottle. We talked about how maybe there was a better way, and I pointed him toward their drug and alcohol program.”
“Thank you.” Lily reached out and grasped both of the man’s hands. “I’m his daughter, and I so appreciate your reaching out.”
“It’s what we’re called to do, isn’t that right?” He smiled at her, then bent to start his snowblower again. “God bless you,” he said over the sound of the motor.
“And you as well.” If she found her father, then maybe some good would come out of this heartbreaking Christmas.
* * *
At the entrance to the downtown church, Lily froze.
Down the hall was a hunched figure, hair standing out crazily from his head, draped in a blanket that had maybe once been white. He stood at what looked like an intake desk, talking intently with the worker who sat there. The worker spoke back and finally appeared to be convinced; he stood, walked around the table and embraced the hunched man. Then they walked farther down the hall together.
The man’s familiar gait convinced her of what she’d suspected, and her throat tightened. “That’s him,” she choked out in a whisper.
She gripped Penny’s arm until the two men were out of sight. Then she turned to her aunt. “He’s a street person. My father’s on the streets.”
Compassion crinkled Penny’s eyes. “What do you want to do?”
Lily walked over to a chair in the church’s entryway and sank down. “I want to help him. But how, when he’s fallen this low?”
Penny sat beside her. “That man caused you and your mother a world of pain.”
Lily nodded, releasing her breath in a shuddering sigh. “But he’s my dad. And I can’t believe he’s here, in a shelter, looking like that...” She gestured in the direction her father had gone. “I feel terrible that I let it get to this point.”
Penny shook her head impatiently. “No. This isn’t your fault, and I’m not going to let you sit here and take responsibility.”
“But he’s my father. I could have tried harder to get him to come live with me.” She’d invited him twice, once right after Mom had died and once a couple of months ago, but he’d refused both times.
And she’d refused to send him money instead, as he’d requested. She’d figured it would just go to alcohol, but maybe she’d been wrong.
“Your mother spent thirty years trying to fix that man. It’s not something a human being can do. Only one way to heal that hurt, and we’re in the place it can happen.” Penny gestured around at the church. “Your dad probably hit bottom after your mom died, and maybe that’s what he needed to do. That can be a step on the road. It’s in God’s hands.”
The worker who’d disappeared with her father now came back, skirting the desk and coming toward them. “My name’s Fred Jenson. Can I help you ladies?”
Lily glanced over at Penny, who was looking back at her, one eyebrow raised. Penny was leaving it up to her, and Lily was grateful. “We’d like to see Donny Watkins, if that’s possible,” she said. “I’m his daughter.”
“Of course! He seems to be back on the upswing again. You could join us for a meal if you’d like.” Fred gestured toward the back of the church. “We’re serving lunch in our Fellowship Hall, and it’s open to everyone.”
“Maybe just a chat with Donny?” Penny looked over at Lily.
“Yes,” Lily decided. “And we’ll make a donation.”
Fred smiled. “That’s always appreciated. This way.”
He led them into a room that held many people milling around, some dressed in the ragged layers of the homeless, a few families and some individuals bustling around with serving dishes, apparently workers or volunteers.
Fred seated them at the end of a long table. “I’ll get Donny,” he said, and disappeared.
Lily’s stomach started dancing. She shot up a quick prayer for strength and the right words.
Minutes later, her father walked into the room. When he saw Lily, his whole face lit up.
He’s glad to see me? Lily stood, barely knowing what she was doing.
They walked toward each other and both paused for a few seconds at arm’s length. Lily took in his greasy shoulder-length hair, his stained shirt, his bloodshot eyes.
He looked like everything Lily’s mother had spent her life trying to prevent, making him shower and dress in freshly ironed shirts, covering for him by calling him in sick to employers, working two jobs herself, at times, to pay the mortgage on their property.
She’d worked and stressed herself to death, and yet in the end, the outcome for her father was the same. He’d slid down the slippery slope on which he’d spent his whole life.
“Dad,” she said, her voice catching, and held out her arms.
He took two long steps and pulled her into a tight hug. She almost choked on his body odor, but at least she didn’t smell booze.
Then he stepped back, his hands on her shoulders. “Look at you,” he said, smiling. “You’ve grown up to be everything your mother and I always hoped you’d be.”
Lily’s brow wrinkled and she shook her head. “You guys talked about my future?”
“We sure did. She always thought you’d be a writer, and I thought an artist.”
“I’m a photographer, finishing up school,” she said through a tight throat. The idea that her parents had talked about her, had dreams for her, touched her beyond measure.
“And you did real well in the military, too. I sure am proud of you.” He took her hand and drew her to a sofa in the parlor. “You were what held us together, you know.”
She sat down beside him and gestured Penny to an adjacent armchair, and they spent a half hour catching up. It turned out her father had been in this Christian rehab program for a month, except for falling off the wagon a few days ago. He’d gotten himself sober and come back.
“They allow one relapse, and that was mine,” he explained. “I can’t mess up again. Seeing you makes me motivated to keep my nose clean.”
Penny mostly listened, but Lily was the one to probe about his plans, asking about the length of the program and what might come of it.
“We’re one day at a time,” Dad said, “but after six weeks, I need to start looking for a job and a place to stay. Move on, to make room for the next guy.”
“Do they have aftercare, job counseling, stuff like that?”
“Yes, or if you want to move to another part of the country, they help you connect with a program there.” He glanced speculatively at Lily.
“I’m sorry I didn’t help you more,” Lily said, fighting back tears. “I want you to get better. I wish there had been something I could do—”
Her father held up a hand. “Whoa. You’re not responsible for me. You made efforts and offers and I turned you down.” He shook his head. “I wasn’t ready to live like a decent person then. Not sure I’m ready now, but maybe someday...”
Lily squeezed his hand, too moved to speak, too confused. Was this how they’d leave it, then? Would he make it or relapse again?
It was Penny who spoke up. “There might be a spot for a maintenance worker at the ranch I’m running,” she said. “You’re a veteran, right, Donny?”
“Navy man,” he said proudly. “That’s what drew your mother to me,” he added to Lily. “She saw me in my dress whites and that was that.”
Lily smiled through her weepiness, remembering the oft-told story.
“There’s no alcohol at the ranch,” Penny warned, “but there’s a bunkhouse we’re working on that could be a place for you to stay awhile. When you’re ready.” She put an arm around Lily. “This one has dreams to dream and a life to live, but I’m hoping she’ll settle
in Colorado. It would be nice if you were in the same area, at least.”
Penny’s protectiveness made Lily swallow hard.
“I always wanted to see the West,” her father said. “Maybe it’ll happen.” He turned to Lily. “I sure would like to make amends for the kind of father I was.”
She shook her head. “No amends needed,” she said, meaning it. But his words made her think.
She’d always blamed herself for the difficulties her mother and father had faced, and the fact was, her mom had sometimes blamed her, too. It was what had pushed Lily into acting out as a younger woman, living the wild, partying lifestyle she now regretted.
But maybe it hadn’t been entirely her fault after all.
“Sorry to interrupt,” came a voice at the door. “It’s almost time for lunch, and you’re on serving duty, Donny.”
He stood immediately. “I need to get myself cleaned up.”
Lily stood, too, and held out her arms. “I’m so glad you’re finding your way,” she said to him. “And I hope you do come to Colorado and work at the ranch. It’s an amazing place.”
All of a sudden she heard what she’d said. Come to Colorado. As if she’d be there herself. But she’d left, run away, broken off the relationships she had there. Hadn’t she?
After an emotional goodbye, Lily spent a few minutes composing herself in the ladies’ room and then met Penny in the parking lot.
“Where’s next?” Penny asked. “I could take you to lunch before my plane leaves. In fact, those frequent flyer miles are burning a hole in my pocket, so if you’d like to fly back to Colorado with me...it’s a lot faster than the bus.”
Again, Penny’s motherliness made Lily’s throat tight.
“Seriously,” Penny urged. “Come back with me, at least for a visit. If not permanently.”
“I...I’d like that,” Lily said. “Thank you. And I’m sorry, I’m not usually so weepy.”
“Makes sense, on an emotional day.” Penny put an arm around her. “Heard you left the ranch. Was it a good visit?”
“The best,” Lily said fervently.
“Any chance you’ll stay on in the area? I’d be glad to have you. And sounds like maybe your dad will be there, too, at some point.”
The Twins' Family Christmas (Redemption Ranch Book 2) Page 16
