Was she capable of coping with his PTSD?
Danni let her fork clink onto the plate. No other guy had ever managed to make her think twice about him. She was wrong to think she’d forgotten about Trace. He had always been there, lingering in the back of her mind, the what ifs creeping into her lonely moments of the past twelve years.
An ecstatic Misty jumped from her chair and bounded into the kitchen, returning with a large pie dish. It clattered onto the table. She hopped over to Danni’s chair.
“See! I made pumpkin pie!”
Grinning at the girl, Danni bent forward. “Do I get the first slice?”
“Yup.”
Once Misty—with help from her mother—sliced the pie, she passed out a piece to everyone, making certain she gave the first one to Danni.
Danni’s gaze bounced to Trace then back to her pie. She was ready to wrap things up here and get back to San Diego. Tomorrow afternoon she’d meet up with her cousins at the Broadmoor. It would be good seeing and reconnecting with them again. Once they fulfilled Grams’s request, Danni could focus on her next objective—getting her knee back to full strength and making another go at the Olympics.
Maybe some distance between her and Trace would help clear things up for her.
She pushed her empty plate away. She wanted to look over the quilt pieces once more, especially her mother’s, to make sure there were no loose threads or damage she missed. Mom’s block had sat in the scrapbook for a year, pressed between pages where glue could seep through.
Her cell phone vibrated against her leg. Frowning, she withdrew it to check the caller ID. Mom.
Excusing herself, Danni headed down the hall to the bedroom. “Hi, Mom.”
“How are you doing, Danica?”
She eased the door shut and sat on the corner of the bed. “As good as can be expected, considering where I’m at.”
“I’m sorry I didn’t stay to see you. It was just so hard, you know? I couldn’t be around Colorado Springs and not think about your grandma and knowing she was gone.”
“I understand.” Danni lifted her mother’s quilt block off the bed and laid it in her lap. “Things will get better. I promise.”
“You found it, didn’t you?”
Her head snapped back. “Found what?”
“The quilt block. I knew you’d figure out sooner or later where I put it.”
“Mom, why did you hide it in the first place? Grams trusted it to me.”
Silence hovered over the connection. Her mom’s sigh broke through a few seconds later. “Danica, I was angry. When I saw those quilt pieces, I lost it. I’d just buried my mom and … well … I couldn’t stand the thought of once more being denied what my parents had wanted for us because my sisters and I couldn’t get along.”
“But why the scrapbook?”
“Part of me hoped you’d finally come home and stay if you’d look through the old photos. I hated that you were able to move on with your life and I was stuck.”
Pain sliced through Danni like the surgeon’s scalpel had her knee. For years after Dad’s death, her mother was indifferent, passive, cold at times. Sometimes laying on guilt trips to shame Danni into doing what she wanted. And it got worse after Mom and her sisters had their falling out. Mom’s admission was like hearing those jabs about Danni being so far away from home, not visiting enough, and the complaints about Danni’s life as a beach volleyball player.
Closing her eyes, Danni took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Don’t blow your top. Don’t blow your top. This isn’t a fight worth pushing. Lord, give me the patience to deal with her.
Calmed, she opened her eyes. “Mom, we’ve both lost a lot. And I guess the one thing I learned from you was to bury my feelings and run. When I get back to San Diego, we need to talk.”
“Yes, we do. And I’m sorry for everything I did, or didn’t do, after your dad died. I wasn’t sure how to handle my grief and how to move on alone. In trying to figure it all out, I forgot about you.”
Danni’s throat tightened. “Mom—”
“Danica, I have something I need to tell you.” Silence once more. Danni thought she’d lost the connection. “Danni, I met someone.”
Danni’s body went slack, like she was nothing more than flesh. “Wha—”
“I’ve been seeing this man for a year. We … I … We’re getting married.”
Danni’s grip on her phone loosened, then tightened as she contemplated throwing it. “For a year? And you couldn’t bother to tell me?”
“You had your volleyball and life in San Diego. Then you hurt your knee. Danni, I wasn’t sure how you’d handle it.”
“Well, now you know.”
“Danni, please.”
“Mom, I need some time to think about this. I’ll call you.” She punched the END button and tossed the phone at her suitcase.
Laughter drifted into the room. Through a veil of tears, Danni stared at the door. All those years while her mom pushed her away, Danni’d found solace with her cousins. They were there, open and willing to accept her. But there was so much left unsaid between her and Mom.
Danni caressed the quilt block, raised threads rubbing against her fingertips. Frowning, she lifted the piece and stared at the open areas between the embroidered lavender and honeysuckle. Grams had stitched some writing there, white-on-white. Focusing on the raised letters, Danni made out the words mercy and love. She finally made out the third word, forgiveness.
Forgiveness.
Grams knew they all needed it. But why put it in Mom’s block?
A knock on the door startled her.
Trace’s voice threaded through her like a soothing balm. “Can I come in?”
Wiping any trace of tears from her face, she straightened. “Yeah.”
He opened the door enough to poke his head in. Concern etched his face.
Danni gave him a weak smile. “Hey.”
“Hey.” He entered the room and leaned against the wall. “Who was that on the phone?”
“Mom.”
“That would explain the frown …” He pointed to a spot near his mouth. “Right there.”
Rolling her eyes, she set the quilt block aside and stood. “What’s going on out there?”
“Julia’s talking about playing a game of some sort, but Misty wants to go out and groom her horse.” He pushed away from the wall. “Want to come?”
Remembering the close encounter that morning in the stable, Danni licked her lips. She should go over the quilt pieces. But the temptation to set everything about her family aside and just spend some time with Trace before it was gone overruled.
“Sounds like fun.”
When she stood, Trace held out his hand. She grasped it, strength and assurance flowing from him into her. For once, Danni didn’t want him to let go. Ever.
Chapter 9
The comforting smells of leather, hay, and horses wrapped around Trace as they entered the barn. He lingered at Danni’s side while Misty skipped ahead to her horse’s stall. With Danni’s hand in his, Trace didn’t want to let go. He could feel the tension shrouding her.
Whatever Danni and her mom had talked about had seriously dampened her spirits. Her good mood from earlier seemed squashed.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
She glanced at him, shook her head, and watched Misty enter the stall with a brush in her hand.
“Misty, use the step stool.”
“I am.” The sass coming from his niece reminded him of his sister when they were younger.
Trace looked at Danni. She would leave here tomorrow to meet up with her cousins. And he had to report for duty at Fort Carson. Tonight might be his last chance with her. Intertwining their fingers, he tugged her forward. She tripped after him as he led her down the aisle.
“Misty, I’ll be at the other end of the stable if you need anything. Got it?”
His pixie-faced niece flashed a smile and nodded, that twinkle in her eyes. Like she knew what he was up
to. She’d probably overheard Julia talking about him and Danni. Misty was hoping for a wedding. She wanted to be a flower girl in the worst way.
Danni grasped his hand and put the brakes on. “Should you leave her alone like that? What if the horse—”
“She’ll be fine. That horse is an old hand when it comes to kids. Especially if they have treats.”
“But—”
“Come on,” he whispered and coaxed her forward.
Her face flushed dark pink. “Okay.” She trailed after him.
He made a beeline for the opposite end of the barn. Releasing her hand, he unlatched the doors and pushed them open, the rollers squeaking at lack of use. A gasp escaped Danni’s lips when the scene came into view.
“Wow.”
Trace drew in a deep breath of mountain air. “My favorite view on the ranch.” He pointed at the loft. “Looks better up there, but you’re not climbing the ladder.”
Her gaze slid to him as she moved into the doorway, a wry smile playing at the corner of her mouth.
The urge to kiss her strengthened. Trace swallowed and looked away. One step at a time.
“When are you going back to San Diego?”
“Don’t know yet. Figured I’d spend a few days here with my cousins if they can swing it, so I didn’t buy a return ticket.”
Trace shifted to face Danni. “I have to report to Fort Carson tomorrow.” He hooked his thumbs in his belt loops. “I need to know something before I go.”
Leaning her back against the barn door, she crossed her arms. “And what’s that?”
Free of scrutiny and inquiring minds, he approached her. Momentary panic zipped across her face and her arms dropped. Then understanding dawned in her eyes, and she thrust out her hands, pushing them against his chest.
“Stop right there, Trace Bryant.”
The feel of her warm palms pressed into him sent ribbons of pleasure threading through his veins. He wrapped his hands around hers and slowly dragged them down. Standing toe-to-toe, he touched his forehead to hers. So close, the coconut scent of her perfume reminded him of the beach.
Her erratic breathing was the only sound between them. He inched closer to her lips. A hair’s breadth between them.
“Trace.” Her voice was hoarse. She tilted her face away.
“Why do you fight it?” he whispered. “What’s standing in the way?”
Danni swallowed and let her gaze drop to his chin. “I’m scared.”
“Of what?”
Her gaze darted up. “I don’t know if I love you.” Her shoulders slumped, and she hung her head. “I don’t want to hurt you, Trace.”
“No one said you would.” His hands traveled up her arms, and he grasped her shoulders. “I should have told you how I felt a long time ago. There was always one reason or another not to contact you. When the PTSD hit me …” He sighed. “I didn’t want it to look like I was asking for sympathy.”
She touched his cheek then cupped it. “Why do you want to know when I’m going back?”
“Six weeks and then I’m out. For good. You won’t start training again in about the same time. Would you stick it out here in Colorado Springs a little longer?”
Danni stiffened. Her hand fell away from his face. “And what if I don’t want to? Did you assume I didn’t have a life, a place to live, bills, that kind of thing waiting for me?”
“Danni, wait—”
“No, you wait.” She shrugged his hands from her shoulders and stepped to the side. “I get that you don’t have one clue what you’re going to do after you leave the Army. But I can’t just hang around here waiting for you to make up your mind.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
“From my perspective, that’s exactly what you meant.” Shaking her head, she moved past him.
Trace caught her elbow and hauled her to a stop. “Would you let me finish?”
“You know what? It’s been a long day, and I’ve got a lot to do before tomorrow.” Deftly slipping free of his grasp, she marched off.
He heard her speak to Misty. Then silence.
Dropping onto a nearby hay bale, he buried his face in his hands and fought the urge to throw something. So much time wasted. Thoughts wasted on her when he could have been looking for someone else.
What was he thinking asking her to stay? Only a fool believed a woman in Danni’s position would just drop everything and do his bidding. He’d hoped she’d stick around so they could get to know each other better. Maybe let her find out if she loved him or not.
What a joke.
“Uncle Trace?” Misty’s tiny voice floated to him.
“Yeah?”
“Can we go back to the house? It’s getting dark.”
He glanced out the door. Stars dotted the sky. He pushed up from the bale. “I’m coming, squirt.”
After closing the doors, he found Misty waiting by the stall. He took his niece’s hand and led her out of the barn to the house. Light shone in his bedroom window.
There was still time. He had to figure out what it was he wanted. Because this time, Danni would walk out of his life for good.
The quilt pieces looked in order. Now all Danni had to do was meet her cousins and put this quilt together.
And hide.
When had she turned into her mother? And why was she just now realizing it?
Danni sighed and zipped her suitcase shut. She plopped on the floor and drew her good knee up, resting her elbow on it. Were her cousins having similar kinds of headaches? She chuckled. Wouldn’t that beat all? Each of them dealing with her own love quandary. That would be a story to tell their kids one day.
Grams’s message in the block floated through Danni’s head. Love, mercy, and forgiveness. Was there a Bible verse with those three exact words in it?
She straightened her leg along the floor and unzipped her duffel bag again. Rummaging through her clothes, she found her Bible and pulled it out. She scanned the concordance, but the words never appeared together in the same verses. There were plenty for love and mercy, fewer for forgiveness. Danni chose the ones she thought best fit what Grams said and wrote down each reference.
An ache in her neck and shoulders brought her to a stop. She looked up and found two hours had slipped past. Gathering up her Bible and notepad, she climbed onto the bed and continued her reading.
With each verse, a peace settled over Danni.
Mom had been the peacekeeper, the one who showed mercy and forgiveness. But when she lost Dad, she lost her desire to stitch her sisters’ frayed edges back together. It seemed Grams wanted her daughter to return to that place. And love was the answer.
Maybe Mom knew about the message. She’d found love again and sounded so unlike herself on the phone. Danni swallowed the lump in her throat. She had thrown her mom’s good news and happiness back in her face.
Obviously, those three powerful words weren’t for her mother alone.
Closing her Bible, Danni set it on the floor and rolled onto her side, hugging a pillow. The conversation with Trace in the barn haunted her. Had she been wrong about his motives? He loved her; she could see it plainly.
What do I do, Lord? I can’t stand this confusion.
Her gaze drifted to the cell phone on the floor. Was it too late to call Mom? Guess she’d find out.
She crawled off the bed and scooped up the phone. She punched three and waited. The phone rang twice.
“Danni?”
Her throat tightened. That was the third time Mom called her Danni and not Danica. “Mom, I’m sorry.”
It sounded like her mom sobbed. “Oh, honey, it’s okay. I knew you needed some time to absorb the news.”
“When can I get the details?”
“How long do you plan to stay in Colorado Springs?”
Danni ran her hand along her pant leg. Should she take up Trace’s offer and stick around a while longer? She’d been so frustrated with the thought of staying and not getting back to San Diego, she didn’t both
er to hear him out. What else did he want to say? She sighed. Even if she decided not to stay here for him, she should still stick around to patch things up with her mom.
“I’ll be here as long as you need.”
“Really?” Mom’s breathless joy infected Danni through the line.
“Yes, I have time.”
“Oh, Danni. I can’t wait for you to meet my fiancé.”
Smiling, she cradled the phone. “I can’t wait either. And Mom?”
“Yeah?”
“Thanks for calling me Danni. It means a lot to me.”
“I know, honey. I know.”
Trace tri-folded a tan T-shirt and laid it on the growing stack in his green duffel. The next time he packed this bag, he would be done with the Army for good. The last couple of days he’d hoped it would also mean being with Danni. But that dream looked like a lost cause.
He folded another shirt and added it to the stack as footsteps sounded on the stairs coming to the basement. His sister flashed him a tight-lipped smile when he glanced at her.
“Misty wants a good-night kiss from you.”
“I’ll be up in a few.” He tightly rolled a set of ACU pants and slid them in beside the shirts.
“You just going to let her go?”
His head whipped toward Julia. “I don’t see how it’s any business of yours.”
“Oh, it became my business when my little girl decided she wanted Danni for her aunt.” Julia placed her hands on her hips and eyed him. “Now you try telling that stubborn child it’s a hopeless cause.”
Heaving a frustrated sigh, Trace moved closer to her. “Sis—”
She wagged a finger in his face. “Don’t ‘Sis’ me. That woman is good for you. What she did at the party when you had a flashback is a miracle. And now you’re just going to let her run off to San Diego.”
“I never said I was going to let her run off.”
“But I bet you haven’t told her how you really feel, have you?”
This was nonsense. He couldn’t believe he was having this conversation with his sister. Turning, he marched back to the bed and his packing.
Threads of Love Page 18
