Hoping it was the latter, she continued to stroke the soft golden hair. Just like her father’s. She’d inherited his deep blue eyes too. Eyes that looked like the first blueberries of the season kissed with summer dew. Eyes Louise had gotten lost in back when she was young and dumb as dirt.
He’d come home. After nine years, Ty Hanson had come back to Sweet Water. He’d been at Palmer and Ames’s reception last Sunday afternoon, although Louise hadn’t seen him in the church for the actual wedding. Didn’t mean he wasn’t there. She’d been busy.
But he’d been at the reception. No missing him. He was the biggest guy in the churchyard. In height and if one were counting muscle mass, he’d win that contest too. Not that that meant anything to her. It didn’t. She appreciated Paul’s intellectual prowess. He was an IT consultant. He had his own business and did most of his work online. And, yes, he indulged in the occasional Friday night at the bar. Okay.
But, really, what else was there to do in Sweet Water for a middle-aged, unmarried man?
And who else was there for her to make a bargain with? To provide her daughter with the father she was lacking?
Thoughts of the letter she’d received a month ago pushed sharp twinges of anxiety up her spine as they always did. As a single mom, her focus had always been on what was best for her daughter. From giving up college to staying on the ranch she’d grown up on to raise her daughter the same way, to getting a job at the diner. Everything was for Tella.
So why hadn’t she gone through with the deal she’d offered Paul? The letter had said if she got married and settled in North Dakota, anywhere in North Dakota, she’d inherit one billion dollars. As a single mother, with the welfare of her daughter always first and foremost, she should be jumping all over that offer. A father and enough money to buy her own ranch. Perfect.
At first, she’d thought the letter was some kind of joke. Then she found out that her brother Palmer had gotten the same offer. He’d gone to the lawyer who’d sent it and checked it out. The owner of Sweet Water Ranch had indeed left a billion dollars to Palmer. He’d had to get married as well. And he had. Just last Sunday. They’d been gone on their honeymoon, but they’d been able to draw on the money before the actual marriage.
Palmer didn’t know about her letter, and she hadn’t told him. Her grandparents who lived with them didn’t know either. Maybe some people would tell everyone, but Louise kept the information close. Her family would never want her to marry for money. Yet the chances of her falling in love again were zero. She’d given her heart once. Ty hadn’t taken very good care of it.
The one billion dollars Palmer would get was more than enough to pay the medical bills from Pap’s stroke and get him top-of-the-line medical care. So the ranch was out of financial trouble and on the way to being a profitable family venture again.
Unfortunately, as nice as Ames was, Louise had started to feel like a third leg on a chicken. Palmer and Ames had only been back from their short honeymoon for a few days—they were taking a longer honeymoon later in the fall when the harvest was over—and Ames had been nothing but kindness and sweetness to Louise and Tella. But it had to be awkward stepping over her sister-in-law and her daughter every day.
The big, old farmhouse had been built with no concern about heat on a cold winter day, so there was plenty of room. And Gram and Pap lived downstairs, anyway.
Palmer would never think of leaving, and Ames probably wouldn’t ask. So it was up to Louise to move out.
Not that she wanted to. She loved ranch life. Cooking and baking and canning. Feeding the animals and riding the fence line. Tella had her own horse and free range of the wide outdoors.
Tella stirred on the swing. Louise put her hand on her forehead. Still warm. But not hot. Thankfully. Tella sighed and sat up slowly, looking around, trying to get her bearings.
“You fell asleep on the swing.”
“I never sleep during the day,” Tella said groggily. Her daughter might be eight, but she had so many adults in her life that she acted and spoke more like a miniature adult than a child.
“You did today.”
Tella, one side of her face streaked red where it had lain on Louise’s lap, gave her a sour look. “I didn’t want to sleep.”
“Sometimes your body needs rest to heal. You’re not as hot as you were.”
“I feel better. Will you take me swimming?”
Louise wanted to laugh and roll her eyes at the same time. A father would keep her from being the bad guy all the time, too. Ideally. “No. I want to make sure you’re completely better before we go swimming.”
“But you were busy with the ranch this past week and didn’t have time. And next week, you’ll be working again. Then school starts.”
Louise pressed her lips together and watched as the car parked. Palmer drove with Ames beside him. Gram and Pap were in the back.
She had been busy this past week with Palmer gone most of it, even though she’d taken a vacation from her waitressing job at the diner.
She didn’t do any fieldwork, but she’d taken care of all of the stock plus tried to keep up with the garden and canning. Truth be told, she’d been a little happy Tella was sick. She hated seeing her daughter ill, but she was exhausted and appreciated the break from church.
Okay, she was a coward. She didn’t know how long Ty would be in town, but she didn’t want to see him, either. She’d dreaded the idea that she might run into him today. His mother didn’t recognize the dark blue eyes and light brown hair of her grandchild or the telling cleft in her chin. It was so much like Ty’s it pulled a reaction out of Louise’s gut every time she looked at her daughter’s face. But Ty’s mother, Donna, hadn’t ever seemed to notice. Would Ty?
Louise assumed Donna would have no reason to look at Louise’s child and wonder if it were Ty’s. Louise and Ty had never even been friends, let alone a couple. All their meetings that summer had been clandestine ones by the river. But Ty would know. Or maybe, with his sports star life and puck bunny bedmates, he’d not remember.
As much as the last idea pained her heart, drat the stupid thing anyway, it would be for the best if he didn’t remember. She had never told anyone who Tella’s father was. Partly because she was embarrassed of her own stupidity, and she didn’t need the whole town laughing at her too, but partly because she didn’t want anyone pulling Ty out of his college scholarship and demanding he quit hockey to support a daughter he didn’t want. Or worse, demanding he marry her.
She bit her lip and pushed her thoughts away. Rising from the swing, she walked down the steps and walk and took Gram’s arm as she got out of the car. Palmer and Ames walked on either side of Pap.
“How’s Tella?” Gram asked.
“She’s better. Not as warm, but I think she still has a fever.”
“Good. That’s the way those summer viruses usually go.”
“Yeah, I remember her getting them when she was little, but it’s been a few years since she’s been sick in the summer.”
Gram patted her hand where it rested on the inside of her bent elbow. “That’s the way it goes. Life happens, and we forget.”
Unless one happened to be forced to look into dark blue eyes shining out from a face that called her “mommy” every day. Then one couldn’t forget. Even if they wanted to.
“Lou Lou.” Palmer’s voice came behind her with the old nickname he and Sawyer used on her growing up. “Guess what you got volunteered for today?”
She grunted. It couldn’t be any worse than the last time she’d missed church, a year and a half ago at Christmas time. She’d been volunteered to be Mary in the church’s live nativity. It wouldn’t have been too bad, but Paul had been Joseph, and it had been one of the coldest Christmas weeks on record. Paul had flaked out. Louise had ended up by the manger alone, fitting for a single mother, she supposed, dressed in coveralls and three layers of clothes underneath her blue robe. There were probably other “Marys” in North Dakota that year, and other years, too,
who wore beanie hats under their head coverings and had gloves and insulated boots on under their robes. But she doubted any of them knelt at the manger alone.
When Palmer had gotten done feeding the stock and come in town, he’d thrown Joseph’s robe on and knelt with her. Bless him. Even if he was annoying.
And still waiting for her to guess what she’d been volunteered for this time.
She kept a good grip on Gram’s arm. “I have no idea. Hopefully they haven’t decided to exhume anyone.”
“Ew. I wouldn’t let them volunteer you for that,” Ames said.
“I would,” Palmer replied, even though no one had asked him.
“I know you would. And Ames can’t watch you every second.” Louise steadied Gram as she took one porch step at a time. There were five steps. Gram and Louise had done this a lot together. Before that, she’d lugged baby carriers, buggies, and then a little girl up and down so many times she had all the dips and creaks memorized. She’d fallen down them once while carrying Tella as a baby. Thankfully she was able to catch herself on knees and elbows—she still had the scars—and Tella had survived unscathed. She hadn’t even woken up.
“I didn’t volunteer you for this, though,” Palmer said from behind her, where Pap was waiting to come up the steps behind them. One of the things Palmer was going to do with his money was install a ramp.
“Who did?”
“Not sure. But I did agree when Pastor laughed and said you wouldn’t mind.”
“Just tell me.” Louise figured it couldn’t be too bad, since he was laughing. Of course, if she’d been volunteered to replace the church roof, Palmer would think that was funny too.
“You’re co-chairing the Harvest Fest committee,” Ames said.
Gram made it to the top, and Tella moved silently to open the door for her. To Louise’s eyes, Tella still moved a little stiffly, but that could be because of sleeping on the swing. There was no cushion.
“That’s fine. I can do that.” She’d never chaired Harvest Fest, but she’d pulled her weight in every single one of the festivals the town had. She could handle doing Harvest Fest, one of the biggest.
“Paul almost volunteered to do it with you.” Gram hobbled through the open door, giving Louise a look she couldn’t decipher. Louise stood at the door and waited for Pap to come up with Ames and Palmer.
“But he didn’t?” Louise asked, hoping the answer was no. Sure, she was considering marrying him, but under a “deal” type of arrangement and only so Tella had a father and for Louise to get money to buy their own ranch. They weren’t pretending to be in love.
“Nope,” Palmer said with a smirk. “Paul was hemming and hawing around about how much work it was going to be and what was involved.”
That totally sounded like Paul. With his IT background, he wanted to gather all the facts and analyze the situation. He was just like Louise in that regard. The one time in her life she’d closed her eyes and jumped, she’d had a crash landing. Tella was the only good thing to rise from the ashes of that big mistake.
“And Ty Hanson, who was sitting with his mother right in front of us, jumped in before Paul could stumble out any more irritating questions and volunteered for the spot.” Palmer laughed like Ty one-upping Paul was funny.
Palmer and Ames were just helping Pap up the last step, so when the screen door banged shut the way no one was allowed to ever let happen, they both looked up with wide eyes.
The porch floor seemed to move under Louise’s feet.
“Are you okay?” Ames asked, the sound of her voice seeming to come from a distance away.
Louise reminded herself to breathe. In and out. In and out.
Ty was here, and he was apparently staying for at least a month or so. Long enough to be here until Harvest Fest. The Harvest Fest that she was going to plan. With him.
There weren’t too many times in Louise’s life where she cried out to the Lord in protest at the unfairness of life. Most of the bad things that had happened to her were clearly her own fault. Or, like her parents not really wanting their children, the bumps in life that one had to weather. But this? After all she’d been through, God was going to make her do this?
She was going to drive in this afternoon and tell Pastor she couldn’t, wouldn’t co-chair with him. She wouldn’t mention his name, but she’d be very clear. She wasn’t doing Harvest Fest with Ty Hanson.
“Mom? Are you getting the door?”
Tella stood beside her, looking up with her brows puckered.
Louise shook herself. “I think I might have a touch of what Tella had earlier. I’m going to go lie down.” Without looking at anyone else, she opened the screen door and walked in.
It wasn’t often that she had been allowed the luxury of pouting in her room all day. She didn’t usually allow herself to mope. What good did it do?
But for several hours on Sunday afternoon, she gave in to her inner child and lay on her bed staring at the ceiling as the sun moved across the sky, the lace pattern shadow of her curtain creeping along the floor.
Memories of a summer long ago slipped through her mind. Good memories. Even the last. Ty had promised to call. He’d sworn he’d visit as much as he could. Maybe every weekend. He’d even offered to take her with him, although how they were going to work that out with her having another year of school, he didn’t say.
Yet, he’d left, and she’d never heard another word. Not one.
Of course, his father had died. He’d stayed long enough for the funeral. He hadn’t gone to the river to meet her, although she’d waited there every night. But she’d understood, or at least thought she did. He had family in and couldn’t get away. Until he left, the day after the funeral, without talking to her again.
She’d been pregnant her whole senior year. Her graduation gown might have hidden her huge belly, but Tella had been born the night Louise was scheduled to give her valedictorian’s speech. It had been a hard year. A lot of judgment in their small, religious town. A lot of disappointment in her family and herself. She persevered. Then she missed the day that was supposed to validate it all: her graduation.
She didn’t know where Ty was, but he hadn’t come home.
Maybe because of her recent grief, maybe because of how her family had splintered, but Ty’s mother, Donna, had attached herself to Tella. Officially, on the birth certificate, her name was Donatella, but no one knew that. Still, Miss Donna had fallen in love with Louise’s baby at church. She’d kept her in the nursery, then she’d offered to watch her when Louise started waitressing at Patty’s.
Louise didn’t have her do it every day, but Miss Donna had almost taken over her rightful role as grandmother. As far as Louise knew, Miss Donna had no idea she was watching her grandchild.
Still, Ty hadn’t come home. At least not to see her.
Why now? People had talked about his poor mother and how she lost her husband and about Ford’s accident and how the whole family had seemed to fall apart, with Ty never coming home on his breaks or even after graduation, Ford becoming a recluse in a town forty-five minutes away, and Georgia moving in to take care of Ford.
Why had he volunteered to co-chair with her? What was going on?
The room had darkened, and she couldn’t dwell on Ty’s motivations. Maybe he volunteered first. She tried to remember exactly what Palmer and Ames had said but couldn’t be sure from her memories whether her name had been suggested first or not.
Her bigger concerns were why did he have to come back and what was she going to do?
Funny, last time he was here, she hadn’t wanted him to disappear forever.
This time, her dearest wish was that he would leave and never come back.
Chapter 2
Monday morning at seven a.m., Louise called Harriet Aucker, head of the ladies’ committee at church. If she were going to get out of co-chairing the Harvest Fest committee with Ty Hanson, Harriet was going to have to approve it.
Miss Harriet answered on the first ring
. “Hello?” It sounded like she’d been out of bed for at least four hours and had a field or two plowed and planted.
“Miss Harriet. It’s Louise.”
“I hope your little girl is feeling better.”
“She is, thank you.” Louise opened her mouth to explain the reason for her call, but Harriet didn’t waste time breathing when she could talk at the same time.
“I’m glad you called. I want to run down the list of people who always do certain jobs at Harvest Fest. Then, of course, there are the places where we need volunteers. That’s where you’ll have to do some stomping around. I’d do it myself, but my stomping days are behind me.”
Louise would have argued with that. After all, just last week, Miss Harriet had made seven hundred and fifty apple dumplings and one thousand whoopie pies and sent them along with the Bright Lights leader two hours away to the superstore where they sold every last one of them. Before she’d gone to bed for the night, she’d managed to write an article for the paper, deliver a fruit basket to a shut-in, and on the way back had pushed Lacy Dunn and her four kids out of the ditch where her minivan had gotten stuck when Lacy reached down to grab a sippy cup and ran off the road. If that wasn’t stomping, Louise had no idea what was.
“Now, you come on by when you head in for your shift at the diner tonight, and I’ll give you the information I have. You can get that hunk-a Ty to do the heavy lifting, but he’s got more brawn than brains, so you’ll have to do the thinking for both of you.”
“Ty is actually really smart.” Louise stood with her mouth open. She hadn’t intended to say that. But in the short time she’d known him, she’d found out that was one of his sensitive issues—everyone thought he was a dumb jock. It was the label he’d gotten in high school.
It wasn’t true.
“Well, you’re the only one who thinks so, honey, and thinking it so doesn’t make it so. But that’s neither here nor there. How’s that gram of yours doing? She looked pretty good in church yesterday. She feeling spry enough to make me a couple green tomato pies? I’m making a trip down south to visit some shut-ins day after tomorrow, and I’ll take those with me. You can bring ’em in to the diner tomorrow. You’re working every night this week to make up for not coming last week, isn’t that right?”
Cowboys Don't Have a Secret Baby Page 2
