Angel Child

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Angel Child Page 10

by Tanya Hanson


  “My son Creighton is severely disabled. And yes. I don’t routinely mention it.” There was no reason to mince words now. The quilted bedcover crumpled beneath her fingers. “He’s just started in a group home. I admit…the separation has killed me, but frankly, it’s best for him. Best even for me. I meant to tell Scott.” Her gaze held Kelley’s, imploring. “To take him to meet Creighton this weekend. I meant to tell him today. But it didn’t go down right. And he’s furious with me. I don’t even think I can face him. Or that he wants me to.”

  “Mary Grace.” Kelley’s warm hand smoothed Mary Grace’s hair. “I know my brother. Scott cares about you, and deeply. And he’s great with kids of all kinds. That won’t matter.”

  “Oh, I know that. What matters is I didn’t tell him. Until I was kind of forced to today. But Kelley…” She grabbed a pillow and hugged it to her chest, holding down the huge urge to bury her face in it. “I’ve seen what happens. Before. A man gets interested in me and finds out about Creighton and goes running off. I…wanted to bide my time. Make sure the time was right.” Her voice broke. “Now he thinks I don’t trust him. Don’t have faith in him. And nothing could be further from the truth. The moment I knew about Heather, and the therapy horse program he wants to set up, I knew. I knew. And I blew it.”

  “Oh, no, no. Come here.” Kelley held her close for a second, then pushed back to look into her face. “OK. Some of this is on Scott. He has trust issues.”

  Mary Grace pulled back farther. “I don’t want to stick my nose in them.”

  “You’re not. This isn’t the first time I’ve helped along one of my brothers in the romance department. Just ask Kenn. And Bragg.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “We’ve all had our share of baggage. Christy lost her faith, struggling with her anger after a drunk driver killed her father. Kenn, well, you may not know, but he and Daisy once were pretty serious. She dumped him for another man. The same man who got Bragg into trouble with drugs. Kenn’s arch-enemy, Tony. Which is interesting in itself. Since now Tony appears interested in Hooper’s ex-wife who abandoned them when Ella was a baby. As for Bragg, I take a lot of credit for helping him and Tiffany along.”

  “Noooo.”

  “Yep. Point is, I kinda mentioned Kenn’s interest to Christy during their wagon train trip. In short, Kenn fixed his own broken faith because of Christy’s love, and Pike was able to look beyond Daisy’s past. Bragg and Tiffany, well, there’s not enough time right now, but me and Jason, between my loss of God when my restaurant failed, and Jason’s wing-nut upbringing, we had a big bag to unload.”

  “I know nothing’s ever easy. But what does this have to do with Scott?”

  “A couple of years ago, he was getting along great with a girl whose grandpa runs the auto shop in town. She even extended a two-week visit to the entire summer, and then some. I don’t exactly know what happened to her, but it was something terrible. Something she never could confide in Scott. And she just left him high and dry. In his heart and mind, what they had between them should have been strong enough to withstand anything. So he’s got that hanging around his neck, whether he had good reason or whether he should let it go.”

  “Ah. So if I’d confided in him at first blush, he’d be OK.”

  Kelley nodded. “Yep.”

  Mary Grace’s mood darkened once more. “Well, too bad our time tables didn’t collide.”

  “Yep, too bad,” Kelley said again as she stood and straightened her jeans and red sweater. “But every relationship worth anything takes some working out. Come to the party. Talk to Scott. Please?”

  Pursing her lips, Mary Grace couldn’t help a wash of affection for the well-meaning sister. “So you don’t think I’m too old for your little brother?”

  “Pshaw. I ‘m here because you’re the best thing to happen to him. And I never hesitate to interfere.” She grinned. “Now, rest a bit and come along.”

  Mary Grace nodded. “OK. Count me in.” Of course she wanted to be with Scott, to talk things out. Work things out with every inch of her soul. But there was something to do first. As soon as Kelley left, she opened her Bible, and right where her grandmother’s hand-tatted cross bookmark lay, she found the verse that usually unclenched her jaw, stilled wars in her head, calmed the storms of her heart. John chapter fourteen, verse twenty-seven. My peace I give to you… Let not your heart be troubled, neither let it be afraid.

  With a fervent prayer, she begged the Lord to rid her of troubles and fear.

  ****

  All right. He wanted to be with her. He wanted to talk things out. Most of all, he wanted to meet Creighton. But Lori weighed down heavy on his shoulders as he fed the horses and checked the fly mask over Alamo’s sore eye. Lori and he had something, something good. Whether it would have grown permanent, he’d never know, because she hadn’t given them the chance. Hadn’t given him the chance to be the man who stood by his woman.

  The party she’d gone to in Boulder, the rape…

  Then again. His heart lightened. If he and Lori had gotten together, he wouldn’t have fallen in love with Mary Grace. And Lori was doing well…she’d told him herself last Christmas. As he curried Alamo, thoughts of Mary Grace, not Lori, ran through his head, thoughts of her strength in meeting a hard world on her own. Never had he heard her complain, never heard her badmouth Grant. Even with Keith Murphy, she’d been brave enough to handle the situation by herself.

  His jaw clenched. She just hadn’t been brave enough to tell him about her son. What kind of basis was that for a long-term committed relationship? For that’s the only kind Scott would consider with the woman he loved. A long, healthy, happy life here at the ranch. She’d seemed to fit in right away. And as for Creighton, here he’d have a support system like none other.

  People already committed to disability therapy. He sighed as he rubbed Alamo’s nose, sighed as he hung the brush on a hook, and sighed as he walked back to the house. Yep, he needed to talk, but ached for Mary Grace to make the first move. His ego could use the boost.

  The spicy perfume she wore mixed with the chilled wind as he headed up the porch steps. She was sitting in an old Shaker-style rocking chair, spice wafting as she swayed. At her toes, the Cowboy moaned with a lazy blink at his master. Scott’s heart thudded at the sight of her.

  “I’ve been watching you with Alamo,” she said. “You’re a natural, you know.”

  He nodded, glad he hadn’t felt her gaze or he’d have gotten no chores done. Blood raced but he kept his voice calm. “I was born to wrangle. But once upon a time a pretty lady showed me the world of art.”

  Her cheeks turned the colors of sunset, and he ached to kiss them. “I am glad for my part opening that door. And the horses get you out from behind the computer, get some sun on your face and exercise in your bones.”

  “You got that right, pretty lady.” He nodded down at her, desperate for her but stiff and proud, too.

  Without blinking, she gazed into his eyes. “Scott, I don’t want to mess up what we’ve got going, and I hope I haven’t. Have I?”

  Her plea, his love for her melted him. Lightning sparked between their fingers as he took her hand and led her to a big log bench. As they sat down, their shoulders melded, and he heard her breath hitch. “I’m sorry. For today,” he said. “I had my reasons.” For a while he looked away, past the corral. “Got burned in the trust department once and it didn’t go down easy. But reckon you had your reasons, too.”

  “I did. I do.” Then she took his hand and raised it to her cheek. “I’ve dated men who bail on me as soon as they hear about Creighton. I’ve learned to be cautious who I tell. Even among regular folks. I’m proud as punch of him, but I can’t bear the sad eyes. The unspoken gratitude it didn’t happen to them. It didn’t take long for me to know you were different.” Their gazes collided and his breath fired up. “But caution has become my middle name. I truly was going to tell you today. I’m not going to blame Keith Murphy for messing things up eve
n though it wasn’t the time or place I wanted.”

  In a dressy blue top and black jeans, she’d obviously changed for the party. Breath coming faster now, Scott prodded, hopeful. “Is now the time and place?”

  “Yeah. My sob story won’t take long.” She grinned but he heard the tug in her voice.

  “There’s nothing sob-story about you.” His fingers covered hers.

  “Well, relationships are hard for parents with special needs children. The divorce rate is tragically high. Some dads can handle it, but in my case, Grant just shut down. He resented the time I had to spend with Creighton. Especially if he’d been on the road for games or training camp or endorsements.” She crossed her arms, and he laid his across her shoulder for comfort, warmth. For a longtime, she too looked out past the corral. “And I, well. I wasn’t innocent. I poured every second of my life into my son. Not very wifely.”

  Then she gazed at him again, offering a smile. He read sure trust. “Sometimes Grant even expressed guilt that somehow we had caused it. But there was no rhyme or reason. Still, Grant was never convinced. He decided we’d never have another child together. When the final diagnosis came in, he just couldn’t handle it. And I, well, I had some denial of my own. I’d search out treatment or new therapy no matter how hackneyed or expensive.”

  Her eyes misted, turned tragic. “To be honest, I spent every living second with Creighton. He needed me for the most basic needs, even as he grew up. Grant was the farthest thing from my mind whether he was home or not. And along the way, he met Marla.”

  As Scott startled, she rushed on. “No. I don’t think he was physically unfaithful. But she caught his eye, and that was that.”

  “But his own son…”

  “He’s got healthy kids now. Out of sight, out of mind. But I must say he’s never balked at paying for Creighton’s needs.”

  “That’s big of him,” Scott shook his head, almost in disbelief at a man abandoning the flesh of his body. Heather’s mom had mentioned something of the same.

  Well, it was something Scott would never do as a father. Not with his heavenly Father at his side to help out.

  As if thinking the same thought, Mary Grace tightened her fingers. “I couldn’t have made it without God,” she said. “Without my folks. Truth is, Grant takes care of Creighton financially. When my pre-nup settlement and equity ran out, I came back home. But Creighton is a big, strong boy. A big, strong baby boy without much coordination. Eating and swallowing are almost impossible tasks. And hygiene. For his physical as well as education needs, it was time for a group home. And for me to get back into a career of my own.”

  She reached down and petted the Cowboy’s head, the dog moaning adoringly. Everything she’d said made perfect sense. If not for searching out a new professional path, they’d never have met again.

  “I’m glad you’re here. And I look forward to meeting your son.” Maybe someday my son, too. The silent word brushed across his heart with longing. Recalling Heather, her sweetness and light, he couldn’t imagine feeling anything less for Creighton, the light in his mother’s eyes.

  “Saturday.” Joy ran through her voice at a pace he could feel. “I’ll take you Saturday.”

  “Maybe we can bring him back here for Sunday dinner?” Scott asked, hope rising.

  Her pretty cheeks puffed in thought. “Maybe, but probably that’s a ways off. Routine is very important to him. But I know the time will come. When he gets to know you. My van with the hydraulic lift is stored at my folks’. He’s wheelchair bound, you know.”

  “How about…horseback riding therapy?”

  “I’d love the possibility. He’s gone swimming with dolphins. A great love of water is part of the syndrome. Music, too. We can check with his physical therapist. I bet we could ride double or something.” The joy and yes, the love on her face lit up like dawn. He recalled something she’d said in the classroom. Something about thinking she loved him…

  But he still had some baggage of his own to unpack.

  “Sounds amazing,” he said while he built up his courage.

  “So you forgive me?”

  “Forgive you for what? For doing what you believed best for your son? Anyway, Somebody already told me about forgiveness, and you, too. Somewhere in Ephesians. To be kind to each other. And forgive.”

  “So how about some kindness?” She lifted her face, and he read everything coy. “With the four middle letters removed?”

  “What?” His brain couldn’t deduce fast enough.

  “Kiss, silly.”

  As her lips posed, he resisted, just for a little while. After a peck, he said, “We can get to something better in a bit. If you can forgive me.”

  “Already done.”

  “Thing is. I need to tell you about her. Lori. Lori Lazaro. And why I behaved like I did.”

  “No…”

  “Yes. It’s called trust. And we both need to make sure we give it, do it. Expect it. If we…if we want a future together. I do, Mary Grace. Do you?”

  “Oh, Scott, more than anything. I’m pretty sure I knew at the picnic last summer.” The setting sun glinted in her eyes.

  “I think I knew then, too. We sure had something. But then, you know. Then you wouldn’t go out with me.”

  Her cheek puffed out breath again. “Well, look at it. I was older. You’d been my student. And now you know about Creighton.”

  “There’s also Lori.” He settled back against the hard bench, wishing he could tell her a fairytale instead. “She was here two summers ago from San Antonio, visiting her grandparents for two weeks. We knocked each other’s boots off. She decided to stay on, help with the housework, keep her gramps’ accounts at his body shop. Was I in love? Well, nothing like I felt for you from that first minute. But we had something.”

  “What happened? You mentioned about….trust. Did she cheat on you?”

  He shook his head. “No. She, uh... She left one weekend for Boulder with some gal-pals. That’s all. Just Saturday night. We had a date Sunday, but she stood me up. I never heard from her again. Nada. No phone call. No voice mail. Not even the chicken, easy stuff—a text or e-mail. Just gone.”

  “Kidnapped? Did you call the police?”

  “Well, I was frantic. But her grandparents said not to worry. That’s all they said.”

  “Well, I guess you knew she wasn’t dead or abducted.”

  “Yep. Last Christmas, she finally came back to Mountain Cove.” His mind wandered, hard with Mary Grace so near, but Lori’s visit and the pain she had endured back then had cracked his heart. “The girls had gone to a party on Saturday night. Lori woke up, no clothes…in some strange man’s bed and didn’t remember a thing.”

  “My goodness. Drugged?”

  He nodded. “By the time she stumbled home, her grandparents, very old country, were too embarrassed to call the police or get her medical care. They just sent her home to Texas.”

  “What about her friends?”

  “She didn’t tell them either. Her shame was so real.”

  “But disease, pregnancy?”

  He shrugged. “I guess she dodged some bullets. Thing is, when she ran out, I was humiliated. But worse was finding out she didn’t care enough about me, about what we had, what we’d built, to confide in me. To let me help her through it. To help her find her faith again. I would have been there for her, through thick and thin. She just didn’t think enough of me to let me.” He slapped his knees, cheeks hot. “Since then I don’t like anybody I care about keeping me in the dark.”

  “That’s quite some tale. I feel for her.” Mary Grace’s voice was as gentle as the hand she laid over his. “I feel for you. But none of us knows how we’d deal with a tragic circumstance. It’s so easy to be a Monday morning quarterback. Grant was so big and strong. I thought he’d be there to lean on no matter what. And then…he wasn’t.”

  “Well, I’m not that man.” He wanted to assure her, to let her know everything in his heart. “I’ll be at your side
for the duration. Whatever we’re dealt. Whatever comes our way, God will give us the insight, the strength to make it our own. Make the best of it. If you’ll have me, Mary Grace.”

  Her eyes shone a brighter blue than he’d ever seen before. Maybe it was the rays of the setting sun. He liked to think it was love.

  “Scott, darling, do it right, please. Get on those knees. And, well. You’re going to have to ask Creighton, you know. For my hand.”

  “I think I like the idea of you walking up the aisle, pushing his wheelchair.”

  “That could work.” Her hand teased the back of his neck.

  “Mary Grace Wesley Gibson, would you do me the honor of having and holding me forever and ever? I promise to do the same.”

  “I will, Scott Loren Martin. Now let’s get to the party.”

  “Should we announce it tonight?” Scott asked. “I’m a newbie at these things.”

  For a moment, her face clouded as if bad memories passed through her head. “No. No. We need to tell my parents. And let’s have a little engagement party. Nothing fancy. The wing-ding Grant had for us had almost five hundred people. I didn’t know more than three or four. Besides…”

  “Besides what?”

  “I don’t know but…Christy cut her trip short. And she was glowing. Wouldn’t it be fun if she’s got some good news of her own to announce?”

  “You mean, about her award?”

  “No, silly. I mean something she couldn’t wait to get home to tell her husband.” She whispered close into his ear.

  Scott slapped his knees. “Oh, mercy. You think?”

  “Just a guess. But my gut’s been right in the past.”

 

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