Eventually, her thirsty need for his acceptance and approval morphed into seeking any means of attention—even the negative. Thankfully, her rebellious streak got cut short when she found her passion, the Peace Corps. She’d had to straighten up to make that dream a reality.
But even that noble goal hadn’t been worthy of her dad’s approval. He’d wanted her to stay in Broken Bend, go to a nearby community college and live at home. But why? To keep her around? To keep control? A little too late for that.
Now it was forever too late.
She didn’t want Ava to learn that the hard way. Didn’t want this sweet girl to have a life of regrets and failed second chances. Not when Caley was sitting in front of her with the option to guide her otherwise.
Even if she did want to smack some sense into Brady for being so clueless about his daughter’s real needs. Kids needed a roof over their heads, money in the bank and food on the table, but they also needed a whole lot more than that. Right now, she couldn’t do much about Brady’s side of things. But maybe she could help Ava adjust.
She chose her next words carefully. “Ava, your dad has rules to protect you.” She took a deep breath. “My dad was really strict with me growing up, too. I see now that I’m an adult that it’s hard for single parents—especially dads—to raise a daughter alone.” She reached across the table and briefly patted Ava’s arm. “He’s doing the best he can.”
“I guess so.” Ava twisted her second cookie apart and scraped the cream off with her teeth. Chocolate stuck to her bottom teeth when she grinned wistfully. “I wish you were here all the time, Miss Caley. You’d make a great mom.”
Something warm and maternal seeped across Caley’s stomach. No one had ever told her that before. But then again, she’d always been so busy, moving so quickly, trying to stay one step ahead of her past, that it was hard to show anyone that side of her. In fact, she hadn’t even been sure it existed. Kind of difficult to think about future children when she couldn’t even determine if she had it in her to stay with one man forever.
Brady was the first man who had ever even tempted her to consider it. But attraction or not, they were different in too many ways to make it work. She couldn’t marry a man who was like her father in all the areas she fought the most. Talk about a recipe for disaster. If her mom had left her dad over money, how could Caley be guaranteed she wouldn’t do worse one day?
Even if Ava would make the world’s best stepdaughter.
She brushed their crumbs off the table and into a napkin. If she looked the girl in the eye, she might tear up. “Your dad loves you, Ava, and it’s important that you respect his rules. Even when they don’t make sense to you.” She swallowed the knot rising in her throat and tossed the napkin into the trash can. If she had listened to Nonie tell her the same thing about ten years ago, would it have made a difference? Could her relationship with her dad been redeemed? She’d never know now. But she could try to encourage Ava. “You already are a great daughter.”
“Thanks.” Ava took a long sip of milk and then sighed. “I just wish Dad thought that, too.”
Caley recognized the sound of that particular heartbreak, and a sudden urgency filled her soul. She sat back down and reached across the table for Ava’s hand. This wasn’t enough. She was here for a reason, and somehow, she’d find a way to fulfill her purpose at the Double C ranch. “Listen. I want to help you and your dad figure this out. But we’re going to have to take it one step at a time.” She held up a warning finger at the hope lighting in Ava’s eyes. “That doesn’t mean disobeying. It means finding compromises.”
“That sounds good.” Ava’s fingers tightened against hers and she leaned forward with newfound eagerness. “Like more horseback-ride picnics?”
Caley winced. “No. No more of those.”
Ava’s lips twisted to the side and she pulled her hands away in defeat. “I understand.”
“It might even mean making efforts that don’t seem that fun at first—like keeping your room clean.” Caley rushed forward before Ava’s pout fully developed. “Trust me, showing your dad that you can be responsible and mature is the biggest step toward getting what you want.”
“It is?” Ava’s thin eyebrows shot up her forehead, and she ran one finger around the rim of her glass. Her eyes narrowed in thought. “How so?”
“You want more responsibility, right? Outside on the ranch and with the animals?” Caley waited for Ava’s nod. “Then you have to show him you can be responsible—consistently responsible—with what you’re already in charge of. Like cleaning your room, and maybe taking some responsibility with Scooter.” She gestured to the back door, where Scooter had finally given up requesting entrance and lain on the outside mat. “And maybe one night this week you could cook your dad supper. Show him that you’re growing up. Things like that.”
Ava slowly nodded, a grin sliding up her cheeks. “Show him I’m growing up. I like the sound of that. You’ve got a deal.”
They shook on it, and Caley’s heartbeat quickened in her chest. She was making a hefty promise, but she’d find a way to keep it. She was doing the right thing—for Ava. For Brady. And even for herself. Repairing what was broken between the two of them wouldn’t bring back her dad.
But maybe, when it was time to go, it would help the leaving part hurt a little less.
Chapter Fourteen
Caley knocked on Nonie’s open door before entering the room, balancing in her free hand a plate of sugar cookies Ava had whipped up last night after their talk. The cool air inside nearly knocked her backward like always, and she fought a shiver. “Good morning, Nonie.”
Her grandmother slowly turned from where she’d been gazing out the window, her curly hair matted against her pillow. She blinked a few times before rubbing her eyes with the back of her gnarled hand.
“I brought you some cookies.” Caley set the plate on the bedside table, unable to meet her grandmother’s steady gaze. She hated how tired her grandmother looked. Usually when she and Ava came to visit, it was in the afternoon after school. Nonie had been refreshed from a nap and smiled with recently applied lipstick, ready to blast them with her sarcastic wit and pretend to cheat at Go Fish.
But first-thing-in-the-morning Nonie just seemed wilted. Like a stranger, not the woman who helped raised her. It was disconcerting.
Nonie pushed the button that raised the back of the bed and spoke over the slight whirring noise that filled the quiet room. For once, the TV wasn’t playing, interrupting their talks with cheers from contestants or blaring commercials. “Tell me those cookies aren’t my secret recipe.” Her eyes sparkled with hope as life seemed to seep back into her bones. “You never could quite figure it out, could you?”
There was the Nonie she knew. Caley exhaled slowly as she took the chair beside Nonie’s bed, her pager digging into her hip. Thank goodness her grandmother had pepped back up. Or rather, thank God. She closed her eyes briefly. God, I’m not ready to give her up yet. I still have too much to make up for. She opened her eyes, wishing she could be sure God cared to hear her prayers. But she knew without a doubt He cared for her grandmother, so that had to count for something. Surely He’d listen to prayers about her.
Caley tapped the wrapped plate with one finger. “Don’t worry, these are from Ava. Cut and bake.” She’d even let Ava cut the dough herself after a quick lesson on kitchen knife safety.
Nonie reached for the plate, and Caley tempered the automatic urge to ask her if she’d had breakfast first. She was a grown woman. Instead, she plucked a cookie free and handed it to Nonie, then took one for herself. This morning definitely deserved sugary comfort. Amazing how awkward it felt already between them without Ava as a buffer.
“So where’s my little card buddy today?” Nonie asked, as if reading her mind. She took a bite of cookie and nodded at it. “Not bad for cut and bake. She did
good.”
“Ava’s at school.” Caley finished her so-called breakfast in two bites. They were good. Ava had baked them to perfection, even if she hadn’t actually mixed up the batter. She’d made them in an effort to show her dad responsibility, but unfortunately, Brady hadn’t noticed. Or at least hadn’t by the time Caley went home.
“I thought it was Saturday.” Nonie frowned at the calendar on the nightstand.
“It’s Friday.” She brushed a sprinkle from the corner of her mouth, unsure what else to say. Was the confusion a simple mistake or a sign that Nonie’s sharp mind was slipping after all? Either way, it served as a reminder for Caley that time was short. She rubbed her hands down her pant legs and took a deep breath. “Nonie, you know that elephant that likes hanging out in your room?”
Nonie set her cookie down, only half-eaten, and raised her bed a few more notches. Her wise eyes narrowed as her gaze drew Caley in. “I was about ready to name him.”
“Don’t get attached yet.” She fiddled with a loose thread on her jeans before clasping her hands in her lap. No more fiddling. No more averting. Just honesty.
Even if her stomach had knotted up like a Boy Scout’s practice rope.
She inhaled. “Nonie, I need to apologize.”
“For what? Always forgetting that my secret recipe includes coconut oil?” Nonie gestured to the plate of cookies and winked.
The knot in her stomach unraveled an inch. She relaxed slightly for the first time since stepping into the room. “For leaving Broken Bend. I mean, I don’t regret the choice, but it was too fast. And the fight with Dad after, well...” She fingered a spot on her jeans before forcing herself to meet Nonie’s eyes. “I just wanted out.”
“I know you did, honey. And I didn’t blame you for that.” Nonie adjusted the thin blanket over her legs as she shifted to face Caley. “Small towns can suffocate. They’re not meant for everyone.” She paused, her eyes searching Caley’s. “The way you left is what hurt your father.”
“Hurt him?” Her back straightened, every nerve on high alert. “I was eighteen—legally an adult. I told him my plans and carried them out. It wasn’t my fault he wanted to keep me under his control forever.” She knew the words sounded immature leaving her lips, but she couldn’t rein them in. This conversation was so long overdue, it was if her teen self had taken over her tongue. “He was the one who abandoned me afterward. Disowned me.”
“Abandoned you?” Nonie’s penciled eyebrows, smeared from sleep, rose on her wrinkled forehead. “You left Broken Bend, Caley. Not the other way around.” She reached for Caley. “We never went anywhere.”
She stared at Nonie’s pale, blue-veined fingers covering her own tanned ones, then slowly lifted her eyes to meet her gaze. “You didn’t come after me.” The admission still hurt. The memories. The empty seats at college graduation. The unanswered texts and emails to her dad’s phone. Feeling disowned by the family she had left. Her mom had left when she was a child—she’d never thought her dad would follow suit. What made leaving Broken Bend so terrible? What made wanting to make something of herself outside of the county lines an unpardonable sin? It never made sense. Still didn’t.
“Caley.” Nonie released a heavy sigh as she removed her hand and slumped back against her pillows. “There’s a lot here you don’t understand.” She looked tired again, as if the very conversation drained her of all her remaining energy.
“I understand that I invited you both to my college graduation and neither of you came.” Tears burned the back of Caley’s eyes. “I admit I expected that from Dad. But not from you.”
“What invitation?” Nonie’s eyes flashed. “We didn’t get an invitation. Not that I saw.”
“I mailed it three weeks before the ceremony.” She distinctly remembered, even all these years later, clutching the envelope and praying before dropping it down the college campus mail chute. Praying that the invitation would mend fences. Bring her family back. Be the first step toward reconciliation.
Rejected.
“We never got it.” Nonie shook her head. “I assumed you were still angry and didn’t want us to attend. So I respected that.”
“So you’re saying after all these years, it was just the mailman’s fault?” She couldn’t keep the sarcasm out of her tone. It clung to her vocal cords like a poison she couldn’t swallow or cough up. “I find that hard to believe.”
“I don’t know, Caley.” Nonie’s brow furrowed as if trying to solve a puzzle. “I just can’t imagine your father would have received the invitation and not told me.”
Oh, Caley could imagine it all right. That was her dad. His way or the highway. Always had been. She hadn’t wanted to live by his rules forever, so she would pay the price forever instead.
Even after he was gone.
“I guess we’ll never know now.” Her voice cracked as tears reached a crescendo in her throat. She coughed before shoving her chair back. “I’ve got to go, Nonie. I’m sorry, I can’t do this. Go ahead and just name the elephant if you want to.” Blinded, she stumbled over the chair leg and grabbed for her purse. “Enjoy the cookies. I’ll bring Ava by in a few days.”
“Caley.” Her grandmother’s no-nonsense voice froze her feet to the stained floor, but she didn’t turn. Couldn’t face her. Couldn’t uncover anything else that would leave a fresh scar. She was still too wounded by her old ones.
“I’m sorry for my tone, Nonie. I love you.” She started to leave, more ashamed than ever, but Nonie spoke again.
“I need you to remember two things.”
Her tone, gentler now, coaxed Caley to turn. She reluctantly met her grandmother’s stare, one hand braced against the door frame in an effort to hold herself together.
The fire in Nonie’s eyes cooled to a steady ember. “I always loved you, my child. And always will.”
Caley nodded as the tears crested, slipping down her cheeks. She let them fall on her shirt, unable to let go of the door to wipe them away. “And the second thing?”
“There’s more to this situation than you know. When you’re ready to find out, you come tell me.”
* * *
Brady drove slowly down the deserted highway back toward the ranch, thumbs tapping a rhythm on the steering wheel. The noon sun beat hot upon his work truck, nearly blinding him with the glare off the hood. He slid on his sunglasses and adjusted the visor. No wonder all the local news stations had been warning about brush fires. Between the heat and the drought, the soil was cooked dry, not to mention the hay and timber. One well-meaning person with a campfire or burn pile could start an unstoppable chain reaction.
As could one ignorant boy with a cigarette.
Brady shook off the memory before it could set its claws in, and turned at Junction 180. He cast a glance in the rearview mirror at the truck bed loaded with hay. With the drought he hadn’t been able to grow enough in his own fields for his cattle this summer—and hay wasn’t cheap. Hopefully he could make this load last longer than the previous one, or he’d see red—literally—in his checkbook.
He drove past the county cemetery, about ten miles out from his property, his stomach still tightening with regret every time he glimpsed the familiar oak where Jessica was buried. But today, a flash of red several rows over caught his eye. He slowed down as the crimson blur focused into a human form, crouched on the ground beside a simple marker. A woman.
The wind stirred her hair from her face as one hand reached up to swipe at her eyes.
Caley.
Without thinking, he slammed on the brakes and made a quick turn into the open-gated lot. He parked and slid out of the cab, pocketing his keys as he jogged to her side. “Caley? Are you all right?”
Her blond head lifted, and she looked up in surprise. “Brady! What are you doing here?” She looked around as if searching for a clue to explain why he’d co
me, black smears lining the corners of her eyes.
“I was driving back from buying hay, and saw you sitting here. You looked— You seemed...” His voice trailed off. She’d seemed upset, but wasn’t that normal for someone sitting inside a cemetery? Hardly worthy of a rescue. Yet—whom did she know here? He rolled in his lower lip, unsure how to continue. Then he extended his hand, and helped her stand. “I just wanted to make sure you didn’t need a friend.”
Friend. The word rolled around his mind and slid off his tongue. He and Caley—friends? In so many ways, it felt like much more.
And in other, more disheartening ways, like so much less.
She stood and slowly withdrew her hand, the surprise in her eyes morphing into something closer to shock—and no wonder, after the heated exchanges they’d had the past few days. He hadn’t really acted like a friend, leaving her house so quickly the other night when that blasted pager went off. But then again, friendship clearly hadn’t been the first thing on her mind as she tried to tell him how to raise his own daughter, either.
But this wasn’t stubborn, fiery Caley insisting she knew best. This was sad, quiet Caley, who looked as though she mourned someone in this graveyard just like he did.
“Did you— Do you...know someone here?” Brady never knew how to regard the dead. In the weeks and months after Jessica died, people kept referring to her in present tense before painfully correcting themselves into the past tense. He hated the effect it left, as if even the person’s impact on the earth had vanished along with their body. It wasn’t right.
“Know someone here? Unfortunately, not well enough.” She gestured to a tombstone with the hand he’d just held, the impression of it still melded into his palm, then shoved her hair back from her face. Her usually neat, shoulder-length cut looked as if it’d been through the wringer, finger-streaked and windblown. And her eyes, red-rimmed and makeup-smeared, were something out of a depressing movie. Yet somehow she’d never looked more beautiful.
She stared at the marker before them. “My dad’s grave.”
The Rancher Next Door Page 12
