Before he could say anything—would she believe him if he’d denied it?—a ding from Livy's room interrupted. A notification.
Maddox had been right about Livy.
He found her sleeping on a soft bed of hay, her sweatshirt wadded up beneath her head, in a stall with Dolly. The mare had been Katie's horse and was in her last days. Her muzzle was flecked with white. The gentle animal slept beside the girl.
He'd never felt so upside-down about being right.
What Haley had said…
He still felt breathless with the hurt of it.
The notification from Livy's phone had interrupted their conversation—fight?—but had turned out to be a friend's post on some app called Instagram. Nothing related to his teenager. Whom he wanted to talk to about having her phone on at night. Later.
He'd headed for the barn without another word—too afraid to say the wrong thing and have things between him and Haley blow up even worse.
How could she think that?
That's maybe what hurt the most. That Haley had so little faith in him.
A relationship with Kiera had never even occurred to him. She was nice, maybe a little too chatty, but that was it.
He loved Haley. Loved their family. He was getting up every day at oh-dark-thirty to prove it, doing laundry and dishes like a madman.
For the first time since before they'd married, he wondered if he could be enough for her.
The thoughts swirling around in his head became too heavy for him to bear. He leaned one hand against the stall wall. Hung his head.
The voice in his head started to sound an awful lot like his dad’s.
Maddox hadn't been enough to keep Justin and Katie in line when they'd been teenagers and his mom had fallen into depression. He hadn't been enough to keep Justin from his womanizing or from spiraling into depression after his bull-riding accident. He hadn't been enough for Livy when his little girl had grieved for her mother and father, not until Haley had come along.
What made him think he could be husband enough to Haley?
She was in a tough place, with the baby stealing her sleep and demanding care. He didn't begrudge her the need for help or the distance between them, distance she'd created. He'd thought they'd ride these difficult few months out together. But this—
He didn't know if there was a way to move past the accusation she'd leveled at him.
Katie stirred in the hay and murmured in her sleep, bringing him out of his thoughts and back into the present.
Not Katie. Livy.
For a moment, with his emotions all over the place, he'd seen his sister and not the niece that he loved like a daughter.
Katie'd left him with a job to do. And maybe he had been acting the pushover lately. Had he?
That ended now.
"Wake up," he said, breaking the suffocating silence.
Livy stirred and then bolted upright into a sitting position. She took one look at him and grimaced.
"Oh, crap."
"Oh crap is right. Your puppy was whining. Do you know worried Haley was when she found you missing?"
He blocked off the part of his insides that howled just at the thought of his wife. He couldn't deal with it now.
Livy brushed her hair out of her face, knocked some straw off her bent knee. "I fell asleep."
Obviously.
She wrapped her arms around her bent knees, huddled in on herself.
"Why'd you sneak out in the first place? You were already grounded. You know things are going to get ten times worse for you, right?"
Her lips tightened into a white line, she turned her face away to look at the horse. Shutting him out.
He was about done with the women in his life closing the door to him.
"Livy?" he prodded, but still got nothing. "This is not like you. The last month or so you've gone off the deep end. I need you to tell me what's up."
Where had his sweet girl gone? Was she still in there somewhere?
She stayed silent, with that mulish jut of her chin.
And everything that had happened since he'd been woken from a deep sleep converged, and he lost his temper.
"Fine." He pushed away from the wall and stood straight. "You promised me you were going to take care of the dog, and you broke your word on that. Maybe the puppy was a mistake." He pivoted and marched toward the barn door.
She jumped up and ran out of the stall on his heels. "Uncle Maddox, no. I've been taking care of Sadie. Every day and every night."
"Not tonight." He strode for the barn door.
"You can't take her away. That's not fair!"
Her wail split the quiet night air as they emerged into humid darkness. The sky was a midnight canvas with twinkling stars strewn across it, glorious and beautiful.
Or it would've been, if he had the capacity to feel anything other than numb.
"Life's not fair," he said. "We don't have a three-strikes rule here. You were already grounded, and you snuck out again. You broke our trust—my trust."
"You can't take her away! Uncle Maddox, please!"
He didn't answer, even as her heartbroken plea pierced his heart. She was really worked up.
"You'd better keep your voice down," he warned as his boots hit the porch. She was still following him. "If you wake up the baby, Haley'll have your hide."
He felt the change in the air when she stopped following him.
He glanced over his shoulder to see her on the top step.
"I hate you," she cried out. And took off into the dark night.
Chapter 7
Maddox sat on the porch steps, his empty coffee mug dangling from his hand.
It was almost nine a.m., and Livy still hadn't come back.
He'd called Mrs. Heller, who'd agreed to cover for him this morning. He hated letting his boss down, but this couldn't wait. His family was more important than his job.
He'd never gone back to sleep, choosing to recline on the living room couch and wait for his daughter. Who'd never shown.
She'd probably gone back to the barn. Maybe curled up in the rickety treehouse he and Justin had built twenty-some years ago. He knew she hadn't called anyone to pick her up, because her phone was still upstairs. And if she'd decided to hitchhike, one of his neighbors was sure to give him a call.
Which meant she was still on the property. Likely getting hungry.
And probably still angry.
His anger had faded to a dull ache behind his breastbone—like a linebacker had bruised his ribs, only there was no purple skin.
He didn't know how to heal what was wrong with him.
Haley had left for some appointment a half hour ago, leaving Elijah upstairs sleeping.
She hadn't looked him in the eyes in the few seconds she'd gathered her purse and keys before she’d run out the door.
Was she really going to pretend that the words she'd said last night had never been uttered? Because that wasn't going to fly with him.
He'd given her time. He'd given her space. He'd hoped that being there for her was going to be enough.
But if it wasn't, then he was done playing nice. They were going to have words, and he was going to fix this. Fix all of it.
He just had to figure out how.
His resolve flickered when Livy crept past the edge of the barn.
He saw when she caught sight of him, how her posture changed, her spine going rigid.
But she approached, if a little wary.
When she got close, he patted the top step next to him. She hesitated. He picked up the overstuffed breakfast burrito he'd wrapped in a paper towel and offered it to her.
She sat down beside him. She unwrapped the food, but didn't start eating immediately.
"I want to go live with Uncle Justin and Aunt Valri." She said the words while staring at her boots.
He absorbed them like the punch they were. "No way." His reaction was swift and sure. "That's not gonna happen."
He saw her jaw shift to the side, saw the quick blink of he
r eyes, as if she were fighting tears.
He put his arm around her shoulders. Teenager or not, she was still his little girl. "Just because we have one fight doesn't mean we give up on each other."
She shifted, but he didn't let go of her. He wasn't walking away from her—from either of his girls.
"Talk to me. Is something going on with one of your friends? Some boy you haven't told me about?"
She was silent, shook her head.
That would've been too easy.
"Is it about Elijah? I know Haley's been busy with him—I have too. You haven't been wanting to hold him as much lately."
A single tear slipped down her cheek. Oh, she was breaking his heart now.
She sniffed. "It's not that." She rubbed her cheek on her shoulder, removing all traces of that tear. "It's... mom. Sort of. I don't know how to explain it..."
He waited for a few beats. When she didn't keep going, he said, "Try."
She started out at the barn, squinting. "It sounds stupid. Dolly is like... really old. In horse years."
He knew. The old gal was having a hard time getting around.
"And when she"—here came another sniffle—"dies, it'll be like the last link to my mom is... gone."
Oh, Livy.
He didn't wait to see if she started crying. He gave a good tug and brought her head to rest on his shoulder, tucking her in tight like he would've when she was small.
"What am I, chopped liver?" he asked, brushing a kiss on the top of her head.
She exhaled a huff. "I told you it was stupid."
"It's not stupid."
She leaned on him, quiet for moments. She'd been sneaking out to the barn to see her mom's horse. Not to party. Or even hang out with friends.
"I wish you’d told me sooner. You're going through a new stage of life. It's natural to miss your mom."
She nodded, her head nudging his shoulder.
"Wait a minute. Lately you've been avoiding the barn. Complaining about your chores and doing your best to stay away during the day."
She shrugged, straightened up. He let his arm fall away. Apparently, the time limit for comforting his teenaged daughter was over.
She took a bite of burrito. Chewed. "Sometimes it really hurts to go in there. You know?"
He nodded. "And at night?"
She swallowed hard. "I don't want her to be alone. If it's her time, y'know?" Her voice wobbled at the end.
He bumped her shoulder with his. She kept eating.
"If you’d told me, we could've taken turns."
"Nuh-uh," she mumbled, mouth full. She swallowed. "You're already helping Haley with everything. And the baby..."
He shrugged. "We're family. We'll figure it out."
He only hoped they could.
Haley's knees knocked as she walked through the library stacks to the conference room.
She hadn't planned to come to the support group meeting, but after last night, something had to give.
Maddox hadn't come back to bed. He'd texted her that he'd found Livy.
He hadn't said a word to her this morning as she'd left. It was obvious he was still angry.
She didn't want to be right about her suspicions.
People didn't just jump into affairs. Kiera Martin was new in town. There wouldn't have been time for something to develop, would there?
But Maddox hadn't denied it.
And she couldn't forget that tiny spark of guilt she'd seen on his face last night. He was keeping something from her.
Why hadn't he denied it?
Tears threatened, and she gave a valiant sniff, turned her head so an older man browsing the mystery section wouldn't see her trying not to cry.
She had to get ahold of herself.
How was she supposed to go into this conference room and fake like she was a good mom? She was barely holding herself together.
She dawdled outside the big wooden door until a hand touched her elbow.
"Are you here for the support group? C'mon in."
A woman a few years older than she was gave her a smile and looked as if she wouldn't take no for an answer as she ushered Haley inside the room. There were nine or ten other women inside, sipping coffee and chatting. Some sat in chairs surrounding the long conference table while several loitered around a box of donuts and the coffee pot on a smaller table on the side wall.
She recognized Dana Peterson, a mother with two small children, from church. Everyone else was a stranger to her.
Maybe she didn't belong here, either.
But before she could turn and bolt, the woman who'd followed her into the room said, "Welcome, everyone. Ready to get started?"
And one woman was pressing a napkin-wrapped glazed donut into Haley's hand. Another patted the open seat beside her, beckoning Haley to sit.
She did.
Around the room, other women settled into chairs, getting comfortable.
The speaker introduced herself as Sally Phillips. A mom of four whose son A.J. had just turned two. She'd been the instigator of the group eight years ago, when her first daughter had been born.
And then she looked right at Haley, whose face grew hot. "We've got a new face today. Care to introduce yourself? Tell us about your little one."
She hid her shaking hands in her lap. "Oh, um, okay. I'm Haley Michaels, and my son Elijah just passed six months."
Should she say more? Mention she was married? Tell them about Livy?
Before she could get her thoughts in order, Sally smiled warmly. "Welcome."
Everyone around the table murmured their welcomes too, smiling and nodding as if they were happy she was here.
Was that it? She breathed a sigh of relief that she could sit back and listen for now.
Sally gestured to one of the women on the far side of the table. "Candy, last time we met, you mentioned little Myron's acid reflux. Do you have an update for us?"
One by one, the women around the table talked about the struggles they were going through. Sometimes the group had suggestions for them. Sometimes the room remained silent as everyone just listened.
"We've tried the medicine and it seems to be helping, but every time Silas nurses, he spits up at least half of what he's eaten. It seems like he's hungry all the time and I'm not sure my milk supply is keeping up. This morning he spit up all over my favorite blouse. I was going to wear it today, and I started bawling. I couldn't help it."
Another woman shared, "We never should've graduated Avery to the big girl bed. Every single night she's climbing into bed with my husband and me. I try to send her back, but he just lets her climb over him and get right in the middle of us. I can't sleep with her kicking and rolling over every ten minutes."
From the far side of the table: "My husband wants to go on a Caribbean cruise this summer. He doesn't get that I can't seem to shed the last thirty pounds of baby weight. After three kids, I hate the way I look in a bathing suit. But I can't tell him that I don't want to go on vacation."
"Every single one of the kids Sammy Junior's age are crawling,” said a worried-looking mom to Haley’s left. “Every kid in his daycare group. My sister's kid. Everyone. And he just lays there, watching. I've tried coaxing him, showing him how to do it, everything! I've talked to his pediatrician, and he says Sammy will crawl when he's ready. But I'm afraid there's something wrong with him."
As each woman around the table spoke, Haley began to get more and more choked up.
Finally, Sally looked right at her. "Haley, is there anything you'd like us to know about you and Elijah?"
To her horror, she burst into noisy sobs. She covered her face with both hands, trying to calm down. Someone pushed a few Kleenexes into her palm, and she dabbed at her face. Drew a deep breath.
Tears were still rolling down her cheeks as she glanced around the table. "I was r-really scared to come here today. I thought for sure you all would see me and know how big a fraud I am as a mother. B-but y'all are frauds too!"
She hadn't mean
t to say it like that, but quiet giggles went around the table. Several heads nodded.
And that gave Haley the courage to share. "I th-thought Elijah would be sleeping through the night by now. He's up several times during the night."
"Honey, you gotta let him cry it out," said a woman from down the table. More nods.
Maybe she wouldn't screw up her kid after all.
"I k-keep thinking that if I could just sleep for eight hours—just once—I could get my head on straight. And maybe…" She inhaled deeply. "Maybe I'll stop being so afraid. Of everything. Of ruining his life. That he'll get hurt because of me. Or get sick and I'll do the wrong thing. That I'm a bad mother."
Saying the words made her eyes well with tears again.
She didn't know the woman sitting next to her, but the lady put her arm around Haley's shoulders.
Sally looked at her, eyes glazed with compassion. "I can pretty much guarantee that every single one of us has felt those same fears at some point."
Heads nodded around the table.
Sally went on. "I know when my oldest was born, I felt paralyzed by the same kind of fears you're talking about."
"What'd you do?" Haley asked softly. She was tired of feeling this way, balanced on the razor's edge, afraid of doing something wrong so that she did nothing.
"I kept doing what I was doing. I fed the baby, changed a couple thousand diapers, made dinner. And slowly, I found a way to take care of myself, too."
More nodding, this time with murmured assents from around the table.
Dana spoke up. "If you aren't taking care of yourself, you'll be no good to anyone. For me, finding this group and being able to talk about what I was going through was a huge help. I'm so thankful to all of you." She sniffed back tears.
Next to Dana, another woman spoke. "The fear doesn't ever go away. But experience is life's teacher. You'll start to recognize those little fevers for what they are, and in turn you'll be able to identify when something major is wrong. There's nothing wrong with being a little over-protective while your son is still tiny. Call the doctor's office if you need to."
After that, the meeting started to break up. Several women, including Dana and Sally, walked over to hug her and encourage her.
And as she left, she realized that she wasn't alone.
Kissed by a Cowboy 1 & 2: Sweet Cowboy Romance (Redbud Trails) Page 13
