“Is it worth it?” he asked Jack.
“To the people who call this home? Yes, it is.”
Carson nodded. “You’re right. I’m sorry.”
“You don’t have to apologize. These projects are worth it. To the town, to the people who are finding employment and satisfaction in rebuilding something.” Jack pointed to a man on a ladder leaned against the side of one store. “Cap is thirty-two and until a few months ago, he was homeless. He was in Afghanistan when he got the news that his pregnant wife had been killed in a hit-and-run. It nearly destroyed him. People have stories, some of those stories are pretty tough. They need someone who understands and is willing to give them a chance to rebuild their lives. I guess lives are a lot like this town. It might look like something you’d give up on, but look a little deeper and you’ll find hope.”
“Stories like yours?” Carson asked as he parked in front of Mattie’s. He’d never thought about Jack’s story. As a kid it had only been about what Jack did to them, not what had happened to Jack.
“My story’s not worth retelling. What happened to me is a long time in the past. I’ve dealt with it and moved on. Now I can help these men and women do the same.”
“I’m glad you’re able to do this,” Carson admitted.
Jack reached for the door but paused. “It’s okay to have some good memories of this place, you know.”
“I know it is.” Carson hadn’t expected it, but being here brought all those memories back. Learning to drive a tractor, hauling hay, breaking his first horse. “I’m not going to make excuses for the man I was, I just ask that you forgive me. I wanted to be more. I wanted the best for you all.” Jack pushed the door open. “We all have our stories.” Carson’s opinion of Jack had been based on the memory of a thirteen-year-old boy who hadn’t known anything about life—or his father’s life.
“It would have been nice to know that twenty years ago,” Carson told him as he pulled the keys out of the ignition.
Jack ran a trembling hand through thinning gray hair. “There were a lot of things I should have told you. I should have explained what went on in my head at the time. I should have explained why you had to leave, and also the agreement I had with your mother. I signed away my rights to you all because I thought you would be better off without me in your lives.”
Carson was surprised at the admission, and only the realization that his own children were in the car kept him from saying things he might regret. “I don’t know if that makes me relieved or more angry. Maybe you can explain what the two of you were thinking?”
“It’s a complicated situation.” Jack took his hand off the door handle and brushed it across his face. “Your mother and I had more of an arrangement than a marriage. When she decided to leave, I had to give her full custody. I agreed to stay away. Then I regretted it. But the papers were already signed and I knew you all would be better off without me. But I was there. Even when you didn’t see me, I was there.”
Carson shook his head at a revelation that didn’t make sense. Now wasn’t the time to delve further into whatever crazy plan his parents had concocted. He didn’t want to have the conversation with Maggie and Andy in the car. And he didn’t want to hear more of what was starting to sound like excuses to him.
He got out of the truck and opened the back door to unfasten Maggie from her car seat. He glanced at Andy and saw that his son had already unbuckled his seat. “Good job, Andy.”
The three of them met Jack on the sidewalk in front of the café. It was lunchtime so the place looked packed. Jack walked in ahead of them, his feet shuffling the slightest bit. A waitress called out for them to pick any place and she’d be with them in a minute.
A couple of farmers at a nearby table sat back in their chairs and stared. One of them finally nodded a greeting.
“Jack, is that your boy Carson?”
Jack’s face split in a grin. “Yes, it is. And these young’uns are my grandkids. Maggie and Andy, that ornery feller is Gus Pipkin and his buddy is Carl Larsen.”
“Who knew you’d have such good-looking grandkids,” Gus teased. He had a gray beard with streaks of red and hair down to the middle of his back. His cowboy hat was bent like it had been stepped on a few too many times.
Carson remembered both men. Gus had trained horses and Carl worked on the railroad.
The waitress appeared, looking a little bit frazzled. Her short gray hair was damp from perspiration and she had a streak of ink on her cheek.
“Got something right there, Rena.” Jack pointed on his cheek where she had the ink spot.
“Thanks, Jack. Is this your boy Carson and his two little ones?”
“It sure is. We’re here for milkshakes and curly fries. Oh, and when we leave, we need a chocolate shake for Kylie. Make that four. Can’t take one of those girls a shake and not the others.”
“We’ll get that right out. But what about lunch?” Rena pulled up a chair from an empty table and sat. “My dogs are killing me.”
“You have dogs?” Maggie asked, wide-eyed.
Rena smiled. “I mean my feet. Do you like dogs?”
“Kylie’s getting us a dog.” Maggie chattered on about it, and Andy listened but didn’t look up.
“That’s pretty great,” Rena told Carson’s daughter. “You know what—I’m going to get you all some sliders to go with those fries. Grandpa Jack forgets to eat sometimes and I have to remind him.”
“Go on, now, Rena. You know I don’t forget anything.” Jack winked at her. “When was the last time I forgot your birthday?”
“Every single year, you old coot. But you always make it up to me.”
With that Rena got up and hurried back to the kitchen, and Carson wondered at the relationship between his dad and the waitress.
Being in Hope brought back a tidal wave of memories for Carson. It was a bit like being an amnesiac who suddenly remembered who he was. And he wasn’t sure yet if he liked what he remembered.
Because on the way to the café they’d passed the creek where he and Kylie had gone swimming that last summer he lived here. And he remembered telling her he’d marry her someday.
He hadn’t kept the promise. Worse than that, until now, he hadn’t remembered. He wondered if she thought about that day, about the dreams they’d shared and the plans they’d made.
* * *
Kylie sat across from three veterans who suffered from PTSD. One of the men, Donnie, also had some serious anger issues to go along with the diagnosis. She thought some of the anger had been with him for a lifetime, childhood trauma he hadn’t dealt with. The PTSD compounded things for him and all of that was made worse by drug use. Frankly, he frightened her. And there wasn’t much she was afraid of.
Maximus the chocolate Labrador retriever lay at her feet. Craig spoke, sharing a moment he’d had earlier in the week, and the dog perked up, watching, alert to the tone of his voice.
“Matt, what are some of the techniques you’ve used this week?”
“Music, the lavender.” Matt shrugged. “I’ll be honest—I’m doing a lot of praying.”
“There’s nothing wrong with that.” She included them all in the statement. “Prayer, refocusing our thoughts, those are steps we can utilize. It’s easy to focus on the memories, and then thoughts spiral out of control.” She glanced at her watch, surprised by how quickly time got away from her. She’d already met with Eve, Miriam and Jules. And she still had to handle the dog situation for Andy. “We’re almost out of time. See you all next Tuesday. Same time?”
“I can tell you something,” Donnie interrupted.
“Okay, Donnie. Go ahead.”
“I’m not okay with all of the prayer talk. And I don’t like lavender. I’m about done with this nonsense.”
Craig leaned back in his chair, his fist clenching at his side. The last thing she wanted or needed was
a fight between the men.
“I’m sorry you feel that way.” She stood as she said it. The best thing would be to have the three men walk away, in separate directions.
Matt stood but didn’t walk away. He got right up to Donnie and looked him straight in the eye.
“Donnie, I don’t care what you like or don’t like. I’m going to survive. I’m going to live my life in peace. And if I pray, that’s no business of yours. If you decide you want help, you let us know. But next week, don’t show up at this session.”
Donnie made a noise that was a cross between a snarl and a laugh. “And you and your one good arm are going to do what to me, little man.”
“And that’s the end of this.” She put a hand on Matt’s arm and moved him toward the door. “Let’s go. There’s work to do.”
“I don’t feel like working today.” Donnie ground the words out. “I’m going to town.”
They all stepped back as Donnie charged from the room. They followed at a slower pace.
“He’s using again,” Craig stated as they left the house. “Jack needs to order a urinalysis on him.”
“I’ll tell him.” She watched Donnie walking down the road because he didn’t have a car.
“I think it’s time for Donnie to relocate,” Matt said, his hand going to Kylie’s back in protective mode. “You okay?”
“I’m good, worried, but good.”
“Watch out for him, okay?”
“I will. And thank you.” And then she saw Carson.
He carried a bag and a tray with four cups. Milkshakes. The idea of a chocolate shake made her unbelievably happy. Just the chocolate shake, she told herself, not the man standing on the sidewalk looking for all the world like he still belonged here, as if he hadn’t left years ago and just come back for a for a short stay in their lives.
The children were playing with Jack. She watched as they hurried toward the swing. Jack followed at a slower pace, less steady on his feet than he’d been six months ago.
“Is Jack okay?” Matt asked.
“He’s good. Just needs to rest up after yesterday.”
“Isaac is worried about him.”
“Yeah, we all are.” She smiled at Matt. “I’m going to check on him. Need anything else?”
“Nope, I’m good. One arm and all. I hope Donnie knows that I have a lot of strength in this one arm.”
“I’m sure he doesn’t, but as long as you know your own strength, inside and out, you’re good.”
“Thanks, Kylie. And I hope you know, you do make a difference here.”
Matt walked away, and when she turned around, Carson was right there. His eyes looked lighter today, more silver than gray. He was watching Matt.
“I could use some chocolate right about now,” she said as she took one of the shakes. “I take it those are for Eve, Miriam and Jules.”
“Jack said for the four girls I’m assuming he meant you ladies.”
“He did. I’ll take these inside.”
“You okay?” he asked as she started to walk away.
“I am. Why do you ask?”
He cocked his head to the side and studied her. She was struck by the sweetness of that look and how much it reminded her of him as a boy. Except he wasn’t a boy anymore. He was a man. A man who had loved, married, lost a wife and was still hurting. She could see it in his eyes.
“I’m not sure about that,” he told her. “First, you all came out of the house after a raging bull had already escaped. And he looked bent on destruction. Second, you’re limping. Did he hurt you?”
“No, he didn’t touch me. Donnie is always angry but we’re working on that.”
“You didn’t answer my question about limping.”
“I’m okay. It has to do with one leg being shorter than the other, lacking some muscle, throwing everything off. It’s like putting one tire that is different from the others on a car.”
“Nice analogy. I’ll use that sometime if you don’t mind.”
He glanced beyond her shoulder and she did a quick check to see what he was looking at. Donnie. Her pulse quickened a bit but she told herself she didn’t have to fear him. Yes, he was angry, but not with her.
“I’ll walk with you,” Carson offered.
“I can take care of myself.”
“I know you can. But I’m offering to walk with you.” He opened the brown paper bag and offered her a French fry. “I’ll bribe you if I have to.”
“That really isn’t fair. I can’t say no to curly fries.”
He grinned. “I know you can’t.”
Of course he knew. She smiled at the memory of him bringing lunch to their secret meeting spot down at the creek. Jack would take him to town to the diner, and he’d always bring extra back for her. Jack must have known because since the day she came to the ranch, brokenhearted and hurting, he would bring her chocolate shakes and fries.
“Your dad knew,” she told Carson.
“What?”
“About the shakes and fries that you would bring me,” she said as she reached for another fry in the bag.
“Oh, yes. I always asked if we could order extra for you.”
The memory meant more than before, because she knew that both father and son had been looking out for her, a poor kid from the trailer park. She wondered if Carson knew the role his dad had played in her life.
“He called child protective services.” She sipped the milkshake. “Did you know that? A month after you left, a caseworker showed up at our house. They took one look at the situation and loaded me up in a car. I never went back. I never saw my mom again.”
Silence. He looked troubled. They had reached the apartment door. She put her hand on his arm. “Carson, it changed my life. For the better. I went to a foster home with a lovely older couple, and then I joined the military.”
“I’m glad. I’d told him that I worried about you. But the night we left, I didn’t have time to say anything, to care about anything other than keeping my brother and sister from falling apart.”
“It’s fine, Carson. I understand. We were just kids.” She shook her head, remembering the stories they had shared with one another.
“Yes, we were kids.”
“We survived,” she said.
He touched her hair, sliding a strand behind her ear. His eyes became molten silver as he studied her face, his gaze lingering on her lips. She wanted him to kiss her. But she knew they couldn’t. Shouldn’t.
He knew it, too, because he stepped back. “Yes, we survived. And we haven’t stopped surviving. For a long time I felt like I was just existing, getting through each day, hanging on to get through another day. But it gets easier. I wanted to be angry with people when they first told me that. It made me angry. How dare they tell me that I would get over losing my wife?”
She closed her eyes at the truth in his words, the pain.
“But it does get easier,” Kylie agreed.
“There are days I feel guilty for that. But then there are the other days when I know that’s what I’m supposed to do. We’re supposed to heal. The body, the heart, the emotions... We’re made to survive, to heal, to knit ourselves back together. Sometimes there are scars, but we heal.”
“Oh, Carson.” She put a hand to her eyes that were welling up with tears, wishing he hadn’t said those words, not that way.
He touched her cheek, his hand strong, gentle.
“I have to take these inside.”
“I know.”
She stepped away from him, needing a break from the upheaval of emotions he’d caused. She didn’t want to walk away. She wanted to stay near him, near his scent, which was spice and outdoors. She wanted his arms around her, which was a dangerous thought.
She thought about healing and wondered if that’s where she was at in her life. She’d worked
so hard on herself, on realizing happiness had to come from within. She didn’t want to lose sight of that.
But it had been a very long time since she’d wanted to be held, since she’d considered being loved. It was both a strange feeling—and a good one.
Chapter Six
The distant sound of church bells and the nearer sound of children laughing woke Carson from a sound sleep. It had taken him a minute to remember where he was. When he did remember, he jumped up, unsure of the day or time. Andy and Maggie were not in their bed. That made sense. He’d definitely heard laughter. How long had it been since he’d woken up to a house filled with laughter?
How had Jack managed to keep them here for more than a week? Part of it was that Kylie had yet to decide on the right dog for Andy. She’d introduced a couple but neither was a good fit. She said it wasn’t something to rush into. He suspected Jack was orchestrating the delays.
Carson had complained, albeit half-heartedly. He hadn’t expected to stay. He had a job interview that had been postponed. But he also knew that this place, the brief visit, had been good for Andy and for Maggie.
When he’d stopped here at the ranch, he hadn’t expected to find Andy, the little boy who smiled and talked, hiding within the quiet, pragmatic little boy he’d been raising for the past three years.
He couldn’t leave now. Not yet. Because he had to stay and see how the dog would work out for his son. That meant everything to him. It meant more than his anger with his father. It meant more than his fear that his children might get attached and make leaving more difficult.
And Kylie. Every time she looked at his children, he saw heartbreak in her eyes. He knew that leaving wouldn’t just be difficult for Maggie and Andy.
Laughter rang out again.
Curious, he made his way down to the family room, found it empty, then followed the laughter to the kitchen. Kylie smiled as he entered the room; her gaze dropped to the floor and at her feet he could see Andy and the puppy Skip. Maggie sat nearby playing with a doll. Carson paused to take in the moment. The most normal moment he’d witnessed in a very long time.
Reunited with the Rancher Page 6
