The sheriff had tried to clean up the mess he'd left, and she found herself smiling faintly at his efforts. Black powder still clung to some of the surfaces, and in spots he'd smeared it more than cleaned it up. But he'd tried, and she appreciated his thoughtfulness.
"This house is boring," Cassie declared, stomping down the stairs. "Why couldn't we stay at Mr. Farrell's house?"
"Because we couldn't," Becca told her, reaching out to put an arm around her shoulder. Cassie resisted stiffly, pulling away from her. "Sometimes there are adult reasons for doing things, reasons you can't understand yet."
"There was no reason not to stay with Mr. Farrell," Cassie insisted, her lip beginning to tremble.
Putting an arm around her daughter's shoulders, Becca led her into the living room. "Yes, honey, there was. And I think you're old enough now to know what that reason is."
Cassie looked at her, sudden interest in her eyes. "What is it?"
Becca swallowed once and drew her daughter down onto the couch. When she realized her hand was trembling, she tightened her hold on Cassie. How did a person tell a child something like this?
"I know you like Mr. Farrell, honey, and I'm glad that you do."
Cassie nodded vigorously. "He's awesome."
"Cassie, you've rarely asked me about your father. Do you think about him much?"
She nodded. "I thought you didn't talk about him because it made you sad."
"Have you ever wanted to know about him, about who he was?"
She nodded again. "I did, but I didn't want to make you more sad."
"That's very sweet of you," Becca managed to say, and gulped down the lump in her throat. "But I haven't been fair to you. I should have told you about him a long time ago, especially when you got interested in the rodeo. Your father used to be a rodeo star."
"Like Mr. Farrell?" She sat upright on the couch, her eyes shining.
"Yes." Becca felt the room dip around her, and forced herself to continue. "The fact is, Cassie, that Grady is your father."
For a moment her daughter simply stared at her, unbelieving. Then her mouth dropped open. "Mr. Farrell is my for-real, truly father?"
"Yes, he is."
As Cassie stared at her, a grin lit her from within. "That means we can live at his ranch forever. We don't have to stay at this stupid house anymore. And he can give me riding lessons whenever I want. And I can learn to be in the rodeo, just like him."
Becca brushed the hair away from her daughter's face and watched her shining eyes, feeling her own heart break a little more. "I'm afraid that it doesn't mean all those things, honey. You can see your father whenever you want to, but we can't live with him. We're going to stay in this house, and Grady will live on the ranch. He'll still give you riding lessons, and when you're a little older I'm sure he'll teach you how to be a barrel racer."
But we won't be living together as a family, she whispered silently. We'll talk regularly and manage to be civil, but I'll shrivel up and die inside.
"Why not? Didn't he come here to Cameron because he knew we were here?"
Becca wished she could shield Cassie from the truth, let her go on believing in happy endings to her fairy tales, but she couldn't lie to her. "No, honey, he didn't know we were here. It was a coincidence that he bought the Flying W Ranch."
"But why can't we live on the ranch if he's my father?"
Becca saw Cassie's bewilderment, and the stirrings of her pain, and ached inside. "Grown-ups can't always live together. It doesn't mean they don't love their children, or each other, but sometimes it hurts more to live together than to live apart."
"Do you love Mr. Farrell?"
"Yes, I do."
"Does he love us?"
"I know he loves you." At least that was the truth. At least she didn't have to lie to Cassie about that.
Cassie looked at her, pain filling her blue eyes, which were such a mirror image of her father's. "What am I supposed to call him now?"
"Whatever you like. His name is 'Grady,' if you want to call him that."
"If he's my father, shouldn't I call him 'Daddy'?"
"I think he'd like that," she whispered. "Is that what you want to call him?"
Cassie nodded, then buried her head in her mother's arms. "I want to live with him, Mommy. I don't want us to be here by ourselves."
Me, too, Becca cried to herself. Me, too. Rocking Cassie in her arms, she murmured to her, "I know, honey. But we've been happy by ourselves so far, and we'll go on being happy. Now you just have someone else who loves you."
But it wasn't as easy as that, or as simple, and as she held Cassie in her arms, she wondered if either of them was going to be completely happy ever again.
* * *
Chapter 16
«^»
The next morning Becca asked one of her partners to take over the Flying W account. She sidestepped Pat's questions about why she was giving it up, brought him up-to-date on what she had done during the past few weeks and asked him to check on the cattle she had sutured the day before. As she watched Pat climb into his truck and leave, heading toward the ranch, she told herself she was making the right decision.
This was the best thing for both of them. She wasn't about to let her feelings for Grady drive her out of town and away from her practice, but she couldn't face seeing him on a regular basis. They'd run into each other in town, and they'd talk about Cassie, but she wouldn't have to feel her heart race and her hands tremble each time she visited the Flying W. She couldn't handle it.
She managed to keep herself busy all morning, then took off for ranch calls after lunch. By the time she picked Cassie up from Laura's house, she was thoroughly exhausted. Cassie was subdued, too.
"Did you have a good day with Laura?" Becca asked, watching her out of the corner of her eye.
Cassie nodded. "It was okay."
"What did you do?"
"We played rodeo." Her lip started to tremble. "Jenny is stupid. She said I was a liar when I told her that my father was a rodeo star. She said I was making it up."
"Jenny doesn't know, honey."
"I told her, Mom. I told her he was, but she wouldn't listen."
"I'll talk to Laura." She suspected her friend had already guessed the truth, but it was time Becca told her. Before long, everyone in Cameron would know about her and Grady. Holding the steering wheel more tightly, she said, "Laura will tell Jenny that you were telling the truth."
Slightly mollified, Cassie flopped back into her seat. "What are we doing tonight?"
"We're having dinner, then going to bed. Don't you think we've had enough excitement for one week?" she asked, trying to sound cheerful.
"No." Cassie's voice was sulky. "Having dinner and going to bed is stupid."
She was willing to lay odds that before Cassie fell asleep, her mother would be found to be stupid, too, Becca thought grimly. "Well, I guess we're going to be stupid tonight, then."
* * *
By the time Cassie was in bed, Becca was ready to crawl up the stairs and collapse in her own bed. But as tired as she was, she knew she'd lie awake, staring at the ceiling, unable to banish Grady's face from her mind. So instead, she headed for the kitchen and made herself a cup of tea, then pulled a stack of professional journals out of her magazine basket. They, at least, would give her something to think about besides Grady. And they were almost guaranteed to put her to sleep.
She hadn't read more than one article before she heard a truck pull into the driveway. At the sound of gravel crunching on the driveway she tensed, but she immediately realized that her stalker would never announce his presence that way. Pushing away from the table, she walked toward the front door just as the doorbell rung.
When she pushed aside the curtain window, she saw Grady scowling at her. Yanking open the door, she said, "What are you doing here?"
"I want to talk to you."
"Come in, then," she said, standing back.
When the door closed behind him, she said, "Wh
at do you want, Grady?"
"Why the hell did you send someone else out to the ranch today?" He glowered down at her, his eyes flashing blue sparks.
"Because I thought it would be best for both of us if someone else was your vet."
"Best how?"
She glanced at him in exasperation, then turned and walked into the living room. "Come on, Grady. Do you really want to see me as often as you will if I'm coming out to the ranch to take care of your animals? And I know I can't handle seeing you that often."
"I thought you were tougher than that. You've made your decision and put it behind you. So where's the problem?"
"Do you think it was an easy decision to make?" she cried, knowing he was goading her but unable to stop herself from reacting. "Do you think I wanted to walk away and not look back?"
"I don't think you know what you wanted. I sure as hell don't. But I don't want you to stop coming out to the ranch." His mouth softened, and some of the anger faded from his eyes. "You're a damn good vet, Becca. I don't want to jeopardize your job."
"You won't. I have plenty of other places to go, and Pat didn't mind taking over for me. I just couldn't do it, Grady. I couldn't keep seeing you, every day, knowing what we could have had together and knowing that you're throwing it away."
"You're the only one throwing it away," he said, and now the anger was completely gone, replaced by sorrow. "I didn't say I wanted you to go. I just said I wanted a little time."
"Time for what, Grady?" she asked wearily. "We've both had nine years to think about what we wanted. I know what I need, and what Cassie needs. And you're not able to give it to us."
"Why can't you let things go on the way they have been, at least for a little while longer?"
"I've tried," she said. "I can't do it."
"What about Cassie?"
"I told her last night."
She thought he paled a little beneath his tan. "What did she say?"
Becca felt her mouth tremble and looked away from him. "She wants to know why we can't all live together on the Flying W. I had a hard time explaining it to her."
"Becca…"
She heard the pain in his voice, but refused to look up at him. If she did, she would be lost. She'd give in, give him what he wanted and lose her self-respect at the same time. She wanted him so badly, but she couldn't settle for what he thought he was able to give. And neither could Cassie.
"She'll adapt to it." She drew in a shuddering breath. "Parents get divorced all the time. And if they care about their kids, they work together to make sure the kids know they're loved and cherished. You can see her whenever you want. We can even set up a schedule if you like." She turned away, unable to bear the thought.
Grady swung around to face her, swearing roughly, hating the image she projected. "That's not what I want, and you know it. I don't want to be a goddamn weekend father."
"Then what do you want?" She held her breath.
But before he could answer, he heard footsteps on the stairs. Becca ran into the hallway and found Cassie almost at the bottom of the stairs. "What's wrong, honey?" she said.
"I heard voices. Is Mr. Farrell here?"
"I sure am, Cassie." He stepped into the hail, feeling his heart swell at the sight of his daughter, her hair rumpled and her eyes sleepy.
Cassie looked over at him. "Is what my mother said really true?"
"I don't know what she said."
"She said that you're my father."
He nodded, watching the expression on the child's face, holding his breath for her reaction. "Yes, it's true. I'm your father."
A huge grin spread over her face as she hurled herself at him. He caught her just as she twined her arms around his waist and buried her head in his shirt. His embrace was awkward at first, but as her arms tightened around him, he found himself hugging her without restraint. A lump lodged itself in his throat, and he had to clear his throat twice before he could speak.
"Does this mean you're happy with the news?"
She lifted her face from his shirt. "Ever since we went to the rodeo, I've been pretending that you were my daddy," she said in a low voice. "I wished for it so hard that now it's real."
"I'm glad it's real, too, Cassie," he said. "I can't imagine a daughter who would be more wonderful than you." The truth was, he'd never thought about children at all before Becca had told him the news. But now he realized he was telling Cassie the truth.
"What should I call you?"
He glanced over at Becca, but her face was impassive. He didn't have a clue what she was thinking. When he looked back at Cassie, she was watching him expectantly.
His gut twisted into a knot. This was his first test. What should he say? "What do you want to call me?"
"Mom said I could call you 'Grady,' if I wanted to."
The depth of his disappointment shocked him. "Is that what you want to call me?"
Slowly she shook her head. "Can I call you 'Daddy'?" she whispered. It looked like she was holding her breath, waiting for his answer.
"I'd like that," he managed to say. His eyes filled with a suspicious moisture, and he blinked a few times. "I'd like that very much, Cassie."
"Good." She beamed at him, then turned to her mother. "When can I go out to my daddy's again?"
"We'll discuss it later, Cass," Becca said. "But you can go out to the ranch soon, all right?"
"Okay." Grinning again, she turned and headed back up the stairs. "Good night, Mom. Good night, Daddy."
He watched as Cassie disappeared up the stairs and around a corner, then turned to face Becca. "She seemed to accept it so easily."
"Children are very adaptable." She made an effort to smile. "And you heard what she said. Apparently she's been pretending that you were her father for a while. This all probably seemed very logical and right to her."
"Jesus." He ran his hand through his hair, his emotions still raw and too close to the surface. "I'm no good at this, Becca. This just proves what I've been saying all along. I had no idea what to say to her."
"What you said was just fine." A flicker of anger appeared on her face. "I told you before, Grady, that being a parent was a learn-on-the-job proposition. No one expects you to be perfect. No one expects you to know what to do in every situation. I don't know what to do in every situation, and I've been with her for eight years. All you can do is try. But you're not even willing to do that."
"What if I hurt her?" He knew his voice was desperate, but he couldn't let go of that fear. What if he did to Cassie what his father did to him? He would never be able to forgive himself.
"You are going to hurt her, and so am I. Neither of us is perfect and we'll both make plenty of mistakes. Thinking that you can avoid those mistakes by not making a commitment to her and to me is just another mistake you're making."
Suddenly her face was unbearably weary. "We've had this conversation before, Grady, and it's obvious that you haven't changed your mind. We'll talk about Cassie later in the week, when we're both less tired and less emotional." She walked to the door, and when she opened it he saw her hand tremble. "Good night, Grady."
He hesitated for a long moment. He didn't want to leave, didn't want to throw away all that she was offering. But the specter of failure, of inflicting pain on these two people he loved, hovered above him. It sealed his mouth, pinned his arms to his side, and the moment when he could have gone to Becca, taken her into his arms, passed. He saw the moment that it was too late, the moment the acceptance and resignation seeped into her eyes.
Without looking at her again, he strode out the door. He heard it close behind him, heard the lock click into place with a very final sound. As he sat in his truck, he watched her extinguish the lights on the lower floor, one by one, until finally only one light glowed yellow from an upstairs window. He should drive away, he told himself. There was nothing here for him now. He'd made his choice, and he'd have to live with it.
But instead of driving away, he dropped his head into his hands. He
'd thrown away his last chance for happiness, and he didn't know what to do next.
* * *
The next day Becca was numb. She dropped Cassie off at Laura's and went to work, but she was just going through the motions. Maybe letting Pat take over the calls at the Flying W wasn't enough. Maybe she would have to leave town. How could she bear to be this close to Grady and not be a part of his life? But how could she leave now? Cassie deserved a chance to get to know her father, and Grady deserved time with his daughter.
The thoughts chased themselves through her mind as she smiled at her clients and tried to force herself to concentrate on their animals' health. By the time noon arrived, she was exhausted, physically and emotionally.
She'd just thrown herself into the chair in her office and was staring at the pile of records she needed to update when Stella stuck her head through the office door. "Sorry, Doc, but you've got one more client who'd like to see you."
Becca gave a silent groan as she stood up and headed for the closed door of the exam room. "Where's the record?" she asked when she didn't see the folder stuck in the basket on the door.
"He said you wouldn't need a record," Stella replied, then disappeared before Becca could ask her anything else.
Becca drew a deep breath and opened the door. She stopped in her tracks when she saw Ron Perkins standing in the room, holding his hat in his hand.
"'Morning, Doc," he said. She could almost swear he sounded nervous.
"Good morning, Ron," she said cautiously. "Is there a problem at the Flying W? Dr. O' Connor is taking care of you now."
"There's nothing wrong at the ranch. This is personal."
She braced herself as she closed the door behind her. "What can I do for you?"
"I came here to apologize to you. Grady and I had a talk a couple of nights ago. He asked me what happened nine years ago when you came looking for him, and I told him the truth." He hesitated, then looked away. "I told him I was afraid you'd get me fired when he found out about what I'd done. As soon as I saw you at the ranch, saw you were a vet and all and realized that Grady knew you, I knew I'd made a mistake. A big one."
RODEO MAN Page 21
