From his lap Callie mumbled that she wasn’t sleepy. Right, of course she wasn’t. He managed to stand up. Callie’s arms went around his neck and she held tight. He moved the high-chair tray back and the sticky mess of a kid that climbed into his free arm.
“Are you heading home?” His mom walked from the kitchen, wiping her hands on a towel.
“I think so. Do you need me to do something before I go?”
She surveyed the three of them and shook her head but he saw the brief flash of concern in her eyes. “No, I think we’ve got it covered. Gibson called today to ask if we’d seen Harmony. She isn’t answering when they call and he’s worried.”
Of course Harmony’s dad was worried. “She’s fine, Mom. I know their concerns but she hasn’t slipped. You can tell them that. She just needs a little time without the whole world circling, wondering if she’ll make it.”
“When a parent wonders, it’s different than the world wondering, Dylan.”
Heat settled in his cheeks, a condition he hadn’t experienced in quite a few years. “Yeah, I know. I’ll have her call them.”
“Are the two of you...”
He laughed at the cautious but hopeful look on her face. “It might not look like it, Mom, but Harmony and I have a lot in common.”
They were both trying to make the best of the hand they’d been dealt.
His mom kissed Callie’s cheek and patted his. “Of course.”
Right after that he escaped. He got two kids buckled in the truck and headed back to his place, barely slowing as he passed the driveway to the Cross Ranch.
Chapter Six
Harmony awoke with a startled cry, her own. Perspiration soaked her hair and at the same time she felt cold, wretchedly cold. The dream was the same one she’d been having since the accident. A flash of light in a dark, rain-soaked night. The crash of metal. The scream. And then silence. Pain followed the dream. Or maybe pain caused the dream. Maybe the pain that shot from her back, down her left leg to her foot was the reason her sleep-fogged brain relived the accident in her dreams.
The accident had left her broken. A fractured back, shattered leg and a heart unable to cope with the guilt. She couldn’t relive that night without remembering how it felt to watch her best friend slip away. She’d held Amy’s hand, begging her not to go.
She’d prayed. She’d cried out. She’d pleaded. She’d yelled at God to send help.
There would be no going back to sleep now. She crawled out of bed, glancing at the clock. It was seven o’clock, Wednesday morning. She had a meeting today. There were times she told herself she didn’t need the meetings. She didn’t need a support group. She was clean, had been clean for months. She wasn’t going to slip.
But she could. She knew that. So no matter how much she didn’t want to walk through the doors of the church in Grove and say that she was an addict, she would do it. She would face the embarrassment. She would face the shame. Because she wanted to stay clean.
She owed it to Amy, to the life Amy would have had if...if Amy hadn’t gone out on New Year’s Eve to rescue Harmony. If a drunk driver hadn’t run that stop sign. If Amy was still alive, planning her wedding, her future.
Harmony walked out the back door, breathing in the crisp, autumn air. She closed her eyes and thought back to what life had felt like years ago when she’d spent summers here. She’d known how to pray then. Now when she prayed, she felt like a fraud.
How did she get back to where she’d once been? How did she become that person again? She knew it wasn’t possible. She couldn’t go back.
She could go forward, the thought whispered through her mind. It gave her hope, that thought. As if God himself had whispered a promise to her.
Her cell phone rang as she walked back into the kitchen. Her mom’s number and picture flashed across the front of it. She couldn’t talk now. Her emotions were too raw, too close to the surface.
Today she would be going to group. But first, she had to take care of her horse.
A short time later, dressed in jeans, a T-shirt and boots, she walked out to the barn. The air smelled like autumn, drying grass and a hint of rain. In the distance cattle mooed. Somewhere a donkey brayed. And as she got closer to the barn, Beau whinnied a greeting.
The horse hurried toward the fence, eager for a sugar cube. She leaned her cane against the fence and pulled the treat out of her pocket. She held it in her flattened palm. The horse nuzzled her hand and then took the sugar. He eyed her cautiously, watching to see if she would make a sudden move. She didn’t. His lips came back, velvety soft and his breath warm. Slowly she moved, brushing her fingers across his face. He snorted and took a step back but then returned for another light stroke.
He already looked better. His eyes were brighter, his body filling out. She thought maybe he’d been brokenhearted, missing his owner. Now, somehow, he knew he belonged to someone again.
“That’s it, sweet boy. We’ll be friends. You don’t have to worry.” But what about when her dad sold this place and it was time to go?
She didn’t want to think about leaving, not today. She leaned close to the wood rails of the fence and Beau met her there, his face just inches from hers. She kept her hands on the rails and talked softly to the animal.
“We’ll be friends, won’t we, Beau? You and I, we’ll heal together. We’ll help each other get strong again. When I leave, you’ll have to go with me.”
Her thoughts turned to Doris Tanner. She’d been moved to the nursing home. Today, after her group meeting, Harmony planned on visiting her. She’d heard that Doris and Bill Tanner had lost their only child, a son, years ago in a car accident. His wife had been with him. The Tanners had raised their grandson, Terry, only to lose him in Afghanistan. A life fraught with heartache, but strong on faith.
That’s what Vera had said at the Mad Cow the previous evening.
When Harmony had thought to eat alone at the local diner, but Dylan had showed up with Cash and Callie. They’d eaten together, the four of them. People had talked and smiled. That’s the way it worked in a small town. News traveled fast, and people were eager to pair up any couple seen together more than twice.
During dinner, Dylan had convinced her she needed to call home. And she would, soon. Maybe today. She just needed a little space. She needed to take a step, maybe a half dozen steps, without being asked if she was okay or if she needed help.
She didn’t want to hear that people were praying for her. The words felt empty right now. She had prayed. She had called out to God. It would take time, but somehow she’d work through that. But the last thing she wanted to hear was that God had a plan.
His plan shouldn’t have included Amy’s death.
She had been honest about that from the beginning, but people didn’t want to hear that her faith was in tatters, or that she wasn’t ready to not be mad at God. They wanted to tie her up in a neat little bow, the kind with Faith written in gold letters. Everything should work out pretty and neat, not hard-edged and angry.
People meant well, she knew. But she needed more than the pat answers about faith. She wanted someone to tell her it was okay to be angry and that God understood her anger.
If she was alone, she could yell at God. She could be mad and no one would see, or be offended by her anger. She could wait and hope that somehow it would all make sense, and somehow she would learn to forgive herself.
She entered the barn and Beau met her there, ducking his head to come through the open door of the stall. He stuck his head over the stall door. The routine was already familiar to him. First the sugar, and then his morning ration of grain. Sometimes another sugar cube or even a carrot before she left. As she walked through the quiet, dark interior, switching on the single bulb light that hung from the ceiling, something scurried past. She shrieked and jumped back, nearly falling, bu
t catching herself by grabbing the stall door. Pain shot through her back and her knees buckled.
“Great.” She leaned for a moment against the solid wall, taking deep breaths as white-hot pain shot through her body.
The furry critter scurried past again. A kitten. Where in the world had a kitten come from? Then she saw another. It slipped out from under the second stall and joined its sibling to race through the barn into the feed room.
Harmony took a cautious step, resulting in another stab of pain up her leg.
She could do this. She would walk it off. She would focus on other thoughts, on the things around her. Sometimes it helped. Sometimes it didn’t. She had to breathe and wait for the pain to subside.
She sank down on an old bench nearby, leaning against the wall, aware that the kittens were curiously stalking her feet. She closed her eyes and relied on the old trick of singing to herself. Anything to focus her mind somewhere other than the pain.
Without realizing it, she picked a song from church. She sang quietly, opening her eyes as the pain slowly ebbed. One of the kittens had returned to its hiding place. A tiny calico, bright orange, white and black, remained. It was sitting a short distance away, cleaning its paws and occasionally stopping to look at her.
She kept singing. The horse had finished his grain and stood in the far corner of the stall, his curious gaze focused on her.
Time to go. She stood carefully, easing to her feet. As she left the barn, the kitten hurried back to his home in the empty stall at the end of the aisle.
She found her cane still leaning against the fence and made her way back to the house. As she walked up the steps, the phone in her pocket buzzed. She pulled it out and sighed. Her mom again. She started to answer but couldn’t. Not yet.
The words stubborn child flashed through her mind. Yes, she was stubborn. Her parents had always told her she was too stubborn for her own good.
She knew she’d pushed her family away, the same way she’d pushed God away. With a child’s attitude that she could do this herself.
She’d always been that child, the one wanting to prove herself. The one fighting for attention. Her brother was more talented. Her sister outshone everyone around her. Not just with her beauty, but with her heart. Lila Cross glowed from within. She had a faith that never wavered. She had talent that no one questioned.
Harmony had struggled with everything. She had struggled to figure out where she belonged in the Cross family, and she’d struggled with the feeling that she didn’t belong.
A truck pulled up to the house. She waited on the porch for Dylan to get out. In the backseat she saw Cash and Callie and waved. Callie waved back.
Dylan left the truck running and the door open. He looked as if he’d gotten less sleep than she had. But on him it looked so good. Like worn jeans and soft cotton T-shirts.
She managed a smile, then her eyes lit on his face for a long while. She saw the shadows under his hazel eyes, the dark stubble across his cheeks. He pushed his hat back a smidge and smiled at her as he walked up the steps.
“Dylan.” She lifted a wary gaze and waited.
Something had brought him here this early, but she wasn’t sure if she wanted to know what.
Dylan leaned against the post on the porch. “Your dad called me this morning. He asked me to check on you and to make sure you call him.”
“Why would he call you?”
A flush of red bloomed under stubble that shadowed his cheeks. “I guess he heard that we’ve been seen together.”
“And?”
“And he wanted me to know.” He glanced back at the truck. “Harmony, just call him.”
“Not until you tell me what he said to you.”
He let out a long sigh and pulled the hat off his head to swipe a hand through his dark, unruly locks.
“He said I needed to realize that you’re not ready for a relationship.”
Of course her dad had said that. She could see him, trying to think of how to fix things, how to keep her from making mistakes or moving too fast. Her mom had always been the one who let her children make choices, live through the consequences. Her dad had tried to fix everything for them. She knew it came from his childhood, from parents who hadn’t really been there for him. That didn’t make it any easier to deal with.
“I’m glad he warned you. I’m very aware of what I’m ready for, and I know that I’m not ready for a relationship. I’m not going to drag anyone into this mess that is my life.”
“It seems we are a little bit in each other’s lives.”
“We’re friends who have each other’s backs. Or at least that was the plan. Am I wrong?” She needed to sit down, and eased into the rocking chair behind her.
She wondered if he would walk away now. After her dad’s phone call, he had to realize what a mess her life was in. Surely he would see that his plan wasn’t going to work?
“You’re not wrong.” Dylan glanced at his watch. “We’re friends and we’re going to help each other out.”
“Maybe it would be better if people didn’t think we were together, though. I mean, together.” She tried for an easy smile. An “I’m letting you off the hook” smile. “I can help you out with the kids, anytime, though.”
He pushed the hat back down on his head. “That’s getting a little melodramatic, don’t you think?”
“No, not really. You have Cash and Callie to think about. I don’t want to hurt them. Or you.”
She bit down on her lip, waiting for him to answer. Watching as he shook his head, glanced back at the truck and then at her. A part of her wanted to give him an out. Another bigger part hoped he wouldn’t walk away.
* * *
Dylan adjusted his hat and let out a long sigh that made him feel somewhat better. “I guess I trust you more than you trust yourself.”
She smiled, and he thought she needed to smile more. “Maybe, but I also know myself better than you do.”
“Listen, I have to go, but I also came by to ask you to go with me to the nursing home today. I know it would do Doris Tanner a lot of good to see you.”
“I have an appointment in Grove this morning, but I plan on stopping by later.”
“I’ll meet you there this afternoon. Afterwards we can grill some burgers at my place.”
She stood up from the rocking chair. He resisted the urge to offer a hand. He waited.
“What time will you be there?”
“About two?”
“See you then.”
She followed him to his truck. She peeked in, smiling at Cash and Callie.
“Guess what I found in my barn this morning?” she asked, as she handed Cash the sippy cup he’d dropped on the floor of the truck, wiping it off before giving it to him.
“What?” Callie was always up for a guessing game. Cash already had the sippy cup in his mouth, and even though it was early, his eyes looked sleepy.
The little guy was either teething or getting a cold. Either way, it meant no sleep for everyone in the house.
“I have kittens,” Harmony answered Callie. “You’ll have to come over and we’ll see if we can catch them.”
“We already have a kitten,” Callie informed her.
“Do you?” She looked from Callie to Dylan, not remembering the tabby from Doris and Bill Tanner’s place.
“I won’t let it in the house,” Dylan explained. “I’m not crazy about cats.”
“You could get it a litter box. And maybe a friend.” Harmony shot Dylan a smile that was half smirk.
“Some people are allergic to cats,” he informed her.
She smiled and he thought about when he’d kissed her. That shouldn’t be the first thought to come to his mind when she smiled like that. He should be thinking that she looked happier now than when h
e first pulled up. Instead he was thinking about kissing her again. Wrong answer. Definitely wrong.
“We should go.” He climbed behind the wheel and looked at the woman stepping away from his truck. “Call your dad.”
“I’ll call him.”
She walked back to the house, her steps slow but steady. When she reached the porch she turned and waved, and he nodded in response. In the backseat Callie was talking about how cute kittens were and if her cat lived in the house, it could sleep with her.
The conversation made his insides a little itchy. A kitten in the house was the last thing he needed. Well, maybe not the last. One of those things he didn’t need was back at the Cross Ranch.
* * *
Dylan wondered more than a little if Harmony would show at the nursing home. He walked through the door, just him and Callie. Cash had seemed restless and it wouldn’t do anyone any good to have a sick toddler at a nursing home. Fortunately Heather had been happy to babysit. Dylan and Callie headed in the direction of Doris Tanner’s room.
They made it as far as the activity room when a shout caught his attention. He led Callie through the open door and into what looked like chaos. Instead it appeared to be a slowed-down version of Zumba, and in the center of it all, Harmony Cross.
She waved from the center of the crowd. Before he could stop her, Callie raced across the room and jumped in the middle of the action. Seriously? Zumba? Dylan watched from the edge of the room as two dozen ladies moved to the music. He smiled a little and shook his head. And then someone took hold of his hand.
“Join us, handsome.” The woman smiled up at him. She wore sweatpants and a T-shirt that said something about cool grandmothers. Over her white curls she wore a pink bandana that matched her outfit.
“I don’t think I have the moves for this.” He tried to keep his feet planted on the carpeted floor.
“Oh, honey, we aren’t at all worried about moves. This is about staying fit. Come on now, let’s exercise.” She pulled on his hand, surprising him with her strength.
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