It all looked a little too much like a home where a family belonged. As they sat down to eat, it started to rain. Harmony reached for his hand and then took Callie’s hand on her left side.
He took the hint, removed his hat and bowed his head. A whole bunch of thoughts crowded a mind that should have been focused on thanking the Good Lord for his blessings. Two kids that smiled more. A woman sitting next to him, her hand in his.
Somehow he managed a prayer that thanked God but didn’t get too specific.
Thunder crashed outside, rattling the windows. Lightning streaked across the sky. Callie looked up, a mouth full of chicken, her eyes widening at the continuing ruckus of the storm.
“It’s just rain, Callie.” He nodded at her plate. “Go ahead and eat.”
“It’s scary,” she whispered, moving a little closer to Harmony’s side.
“If you close your eyes and listen, it’s a good sound.” Harmony led by example, closing her eyes and looking peaceful. “Hear the rain on the roof?”
She looked down at Callie and smiled. Callie still had her eyes closed but she didn’t look convinced of Dylan’s way of thinking. Callie looked up, shaking her head.
“It’s still scary.”
“Keep your eyes closed and listen. Rain is like music. And the rain makes everything grow, even flowers.”
Callie sighed and eventually the fear passed. He thought about Harmony, and how often she had to convince herself the fear or pain she felt wasn’t real. The other night she’d told him counting stars gave her something to focus on. And now she was having Doris teach her to crochet. Another distraction.
Harmony finished eating and stood to carry her plate to the kitchen. She took Dylan’s empty plate and the plastic plate Cash had used. Callie was still eating chicken.
“I’m going to help Harmony do the dishes, Callie. You finish eating, okay?”
“But the storm.” Callie looked up at him, eyes wide with fear.
“The storm is outside and we’re all right here together.”
“Okay.” But she didn’t sound convinced.
Dylan walked into the kitchen where Harmony was loading the dishwasher. He saw what she needed, a kitchen stool in the corner of the room. He brought it to her and the cane that had been leaning against the pantry.
“Sit.”
“You’re bossy.” But she didn’t argue. She peered past him, smiling at something she saw in the dining room.
Dylan looked, to make sure everything was okay, that Cash hadn’t climbed onto the ceiling fan or something equally dangerous. Callie had moved to Cash’s side and was sitting close, telling him he didn’t have to be afraid of the storm.
“Mommy’s in heaven and storms come from heaven.” Callie’s voice was soft, her hand patting Cash’s.
Dylan closed his eyes, wishing kids didn’t have to suffer that kind of pain. Harmony leaned her head against his shoulder and her arm wrapped around him, pulling him close.
“They’re getting through it the way kids do, by making sense of it.”
He glanced down at her and he saw in her eyes the pain of understanding. Of course she knew what it was like to be a little girl left alone. But in a way that he couldn’t even begin to imagine.
“Don’t kiss me, Dylan.”
He backed away, surprised by the order, surprised that it was exactly what he’d planned to do. He’d been close and she was easing herself off the stool and returning to the dishwasher.
“Don’t kiss you?”
She loaded the few glasses in the sink and closed the door of the dishwasher. “No more. We have to stop. Somewhere along the way, our perfect plan has turned into a perfect mess.”
“It might be messy but I didn’t think it was a mess.”
She leaned on the cane and walked past him, to the fridge. She put away ketchup and juice before looking at him again.
“It is a mess and you know it. We’re making it messy by letting ourselves think that what we started out with has become real. We’ve crossed the lines.”
“I’ve always been bad at not staying in the lines,” he teased.
She shot him a warning look. And then Callie was calling out to them, telling them Cash wanted out of the high chair and the lightning was really bad. So much for working with the horse.
Dylan helped Cash down from the high chair. When he turned back around Callie had hold of Harmony’s hand, trying to convince her she was afraid of storms, too.
“I promise I’m not afraid of storms, Callie.”
Dylan guessed she probably wasn’t, but he knew something she was afraid of. She was afraid of what she was feeling. She was afraid of letting him—them—in her life.
“Can I stay the night with Harmony?” Callie asked, still holding on to Harmony’s hand like it was a life preserver.
Dylan looked at Harmony, and she nodded. “I guess you can,” he answered.
Callie looked up at Harmony, big eyes and serious intent. “I can sleep in her bed and she can tell me a story.”
Dylan agreed. “Yes, she can.”
Those were the things a little girl missed, he guessed. He tried but he knew he didn’t always get it right. Katrina had taught him to do her hair. She’d taught him about dresses, little-girl shoes and the right soaps to use.
The rest had been up to him to learn. Katrina had left them way too soon. She should have had more years with her kids. She should have watched them grow up. It wasn’t fair that she’d had to leave them with him.
He heard Harmony tell Callie she’d put on a movie for them, and yes, Callie could pick a cartoon. And then a hand touched his, leading him back to the dining room.
“Are you okay?” she asked, her hand still on his.
He looked down at the woman standing with bare feet, a long dress swishing around her legs. “What?”
“You left us for a minute in there.”
He sighed. “Yeah, I guess I did. I was just thinking about all Katrina missed out on and everything the kids will miss with her not being here. Callie misses her the most.”
“She was older. She remembers more about having a mommy.”
Yeah, she had memories of Katrina, that was a good thing. She had memories, a bad thing. He had memories, too. One of Katrina making him promise to marry someone who would love her kids. Someone who would be a real mom to them, she’d said. Because she’d had a stepmother who hadn’t loved her. Katrina had run away at fifteen and lived a rough life for a few years.
“I should go. Cash is getting sleepy.”
Harmony touched his cheek and then she surprised him by standing on tiptoe and pulling him down to kiss him on the chin. He smiled at the sweet gesture.
“It will all work out.” Harmony walked with him back to the living room. Callie was curled up on the sofa and Cash was pushing a toy car across the floor making the appropriate sounds. Callie told him to drive a more quiet car and Cash giggled.
Yeah, he guessed it would all work out. But for now he had to pick Cash up and walk out into the rain. As they went out the door, he dropped his hat on Cash’s head to protect him from the downpour. Dylan glanced back to see Callie wrap her arms around Harmony’s waist. Harmony hugged her back.
It would all work out.
Chapter Fourteen
It was October, and Harmony’s time in Dawson would come to an end soon. She sat next to Doris, crocheting colorful granny squares and thinking about what it would be like to go home, to Tennessee. When she thought of home, though, she thought Dawson. She didn’t think about the large home her parents lived in, or her own apartment in Nashville.
Home had become the farmhouse her dad was considering putting on the market. Home was Dawson Community Church and the Mad Cow Café. Doris, Heather, Eva, these were her friends, the pe
ople who didn’t expect more than she could give. They gave what she needed and were honest with their opinions.
She’d spent the better part of her life never knowing who liked her for herself and who wanted to be close to her because it might help them. Other than her family, Amy and these people in Dawson, she hadn’t had a lot of honest relationships.
The buzz of her cell phone cut into the peaceful silence. She reached into her purse and saw her mother’s name and picture flash across the screen. She answered with a smile.
“Hi, Mom.”
“Hey, honey. How are you?”
“Good. I’m learning to crochet. You’ll be proud. I’m making you an olive-green afghan for Christmas. With peach trim. Promise me you’ll put it on your bed.”
Olivia Cross laughed. “It isn’t really olive-green, is it?”
“No, you’ll like it. What’s up?”
And then Olivia Cross gave her an address in Missouri, a place less than two hours away from Grove and Dawson. It was where Patricia Duncan now lived. Olivia said something about homeless shelters in Texas and Kansas, then moving to Springfield and finally to a small town outside of Joplin. She worked at a hotel, in housekeeping. Harmony listened, her heart beating rapidly as the news sank in.
“How did you find her?”
“Lila helped me. It took a while but we found her. I’m going to call her. But I wanted to let you do this first. I want this to be between the two of you.”
“Okay.” Harmony drew in a breath. “Mom, thank you. I love you.”
“I love you, too. Call me after you see her, because I know you’re going now.”
“I am.”
There was a long pause and then her mother sighed softly into the phone. “Do you want to wait and I’ll go with you?”
“No, I think I need to face her alone.”
“I understand. But Harmony, I need for you to remember something. Remember that you’re our daughter in every way that matters. From the moment you walked into our lives, you have been ours.”
“I know.”
She ended the call and dropped her phone back in her purse. Doris was watching her, questioning looks in her deep gray eyes.
“My birth mother lives less than two hours from here. All of this time and she’s right here.”
“Goodness.”
“I should be excited to see her, right?”
Doris stopped crocheting. “I think you’d feel a lot of things right now, Harmony. I’m not sure if excited would be the word.”
“I’m afraid that if I look at her, I’m going to see myself.”
“Oh, hogwash.” Doris dropped her yarn and crochet hooks in the basket next to her chair. “You’re not her. I’m not sure why you have such a poor opinion of yourself.”
“I think it comes from being raised surrounded by spectacular people. My sister is unbelievably beautiful and intelligent, Doris. My brother has our dad’s talent. I’m the middle child in all ways. I’m medium.”
Doris shook her head, then laughed a little. “I think you are spectacular, Harmony. How many young women your age are spending their days at a nursing home doing senior Zumba, or taking meals to a cranky old farmer? You’re as spectacular as they come. And you need to spend a little time believing in yourself. Don’t you dare decide your future based on what has happened in the past or on the woman who gave birth to you.”
“Doris, I wish I could take you with me everywhere I go.”
“You’ll always have me, honey. You just have to stop by and visit or give me a call. I’ll tell you how the cow ate the cabbage. And I promise you, if I think you’re messing up, I’ll tell you that, too.”
“I’m counting on it.” She looked at her watch and stood to go. “I guess I’m going to make a trip to Missouri.”
“Why don’t you take someone with you?”
“No, I think I have to do this alone.”
Doris shook her head. “I know I can’t convince you otherwise.”
Harmony leaned to kiss her friend’s cheek. “Not this time.”
She left, walking out into bright fall sunshine, the sky a brilliant blue. The summer haze had long gone, and the air felt free from humidity with a hint of a north wind that made long sleeves feel good.
As she crossed the parking lot to her car, she noticed the new dark blue Ford pulling in but didn’t think much about it. Not until it parked next to her and she looked up did she realize that the cowboy behind those tinted windows was the last cowboy she wanted to see. He smiled at her as he got out. She opened her door and pretended the week since the storm had been a good week. A week in which the two of them had been moving toward independence. Because she’d pointed out to him the day after Callie’s sleepover that they needed to prepare the kids for when she left town.
The deciding factor had been when Callie cuddled up with her that night and said she wanted her to be her new mommy.
“How’s Doris?” Dylan asked as he approached her.
“Good. Nice truck.”
“Thanks. I finally retired my old truck. I bought that thing with cattle money when I was sixteen and it lived a long and useful life.”
“Not an easy life, I’m sure.”
He grinned at that. “No, not always an easy life. Where you heading to?”
She almost told him. Almost. “Home. Where are Cash and Callie?”
He rounded the front of her car and she wished she’d already gotten behind the wheel. Instead she found herself trapped by a man who was so casual about his good looks and charm that she found it hard to take a deep breath when he was around.
“They’re with my mom. I’ve been out at Camp Hope helping Gage put together some team-building exercises for troubled teens that’ll be there at the end of the month for a weekend retreat.”
Camp Hope was a local camp started by football player Adam MacKenzie. He’d grown up in the area and moved back after retiring from a pro football career. He’d married a local, Jenna Cameron.
“I heard a rumor that you’re leaving at the end of the month.” He switched the conversation back to a subject she’d hoped they could avoid.
“I am.” She bit down on her bottom lip and looked off in the direction of the field behind the nursing home. “Dylan, please don’t.”
“I’m not doing anything, Harmony. I was just going to say that we’re friends, and you should treat me like a friend.”
“I know. It isn’t easy saying goodbye. It isn’t easy knowing that I won’t be here and Callie might want her hair done and Cash might eventually say my name.”
“It isn’t supposed to be easy to walk away from people you care about.”
Ouch. That hurt and from the look he gave her, he knew it.
“I’m not walking away, I’m going home.”
“Yeah, I guess you are. For some reason, I thought this was home.”
“It’s your home.”
He shook his head, adjusted his white cowboy hat and then pinned her with a glare. “You’re one stubborn female, you know that?”
“I know. But I’m also the woman trying hard not to let you down.” She tried to change the subject. “By the way, I ordered the cake, like you asked. And I’ll be here for Cash’s birthday. If I’m still invited.”
“You know you are.”
He leaned in, resting one arm across the top of her car. “I wish you’d give yourself a chance. I wish...”
“What?”
He shook his head. “Nothing. I need to go see Doris. I built a ramp for her, just in case she needs it when she goes home. Bill is out buying groceries, hoping that by next week she’ll be home for good.”
“I hope she is. I know they miss each other.”
“Yeah, that’s how it is when you care about someone.”
/>
“See you later, Dylan.”
“See you later, Princess.” He closed her door and stepped back as she drove away.
She hadn’t left Dawson yet and she already missed him. She hadn’t expected to feel this way, but she did. And she couldn’t tell him where she was going, because he had his own life to deal with. She couldn’t be one more person Dylan Cooper felt he had to take care of.
* * *
Dylan rapped on the door of Doris’s room and when she answered, he took his hat off and walked in. Her roommate, an older woman who never left the bed, glared at him. He smiled and nodded at her. But she couldn’t be charmed.
“Dylan, it’s so good to see you. You just missed Harmony.”
“I saw her in the parking lot. How are you doing, Doris? Ready to go home soon?”
“I’m very ready to go home. I’m going to miss Harmony, though.” She smiled at him. “I bet you and the kids will miss her, too.”
He raked his fingers through his hair and leaned back in the hard extra chair. Why wasn’t the furniture more comfortable? Made no sense to him.
“Yeah, we’ll miss her.”
“Go by and see her later, would you do that for me? Just check and make sure she’s okay.”
He leaned forward and saw Doris smile a knowing little smile. “What is it, Doris?”
“She got a call about her birth mother living not far from here, in Missouri.”
“So she’s going alone?”
Doris bit down on her bottom lip. “I’m pretty sure she wouldn’t want me to tell everything.”
He grinned at that. “Doris, I love how you suddenly decide not to say anything. I should probably go.”
“Yes, you should.”
He hugged her goodbye and minutes later he was pulling up to the house at Cooper Creek. He had argued with himself all the way back to the ranch. He’d told himself that if Harmony wanted him to go with her, she would have asked. Then he told himself that Harmony didn’t know what she wanted. Then again, he didn’t know what he wanted, either. He knew without a doubt that she shouldn’t go through something like that alone. He got that she was trying to put distance between them for the sake of the kids, but there were times that a person just needed a friend.
Single Dad Cowboy Page 15
