by Kelly Moore
“Is she still here?” Her normally sweet voice is filled with anguish.
“Nita is not going anywhere.”
“Until something awful happens,” she says, unlocking the door and flinging it open. She stands in the middle with a wide stance, and arms crossed over her chest.
“I know she broke your heart…”
“She broke yours too!” she yells.
I bend down and place my arms under hers, picking her up. I walk over to the twin-size bed and sit with her on my lap. “She hurt both of us. Sometimes adults make decisions that hurt others, not really meaning to. She needed time to work through her emotions. Does that make sense?”
“Like I had to do with my therapist?” Her big, brown, round eyes sheen with tears.
“Exactly.”
“Then why didn’t Ms. Nita see my therapist? Why did she have to leave?”
“I know it’s all confusing. She felt guilty for what happened to you.”
“It wasn’t her fault.”
“I know that, and you know that, but it doesn’t change how she felt.”
“You forgive her?” She cocks her head.
“I forgive her for leaving, but her waiting so long is a little harder. I’ll get there.”
“Well, I don’t. You were so sad, Daddy.”
I ruffle her hair. “I was, and I’m sorry I let you see me mope around.”
“I don’t think I can trust her again. Please don’t let her live with us.”
“How about this? She can stay at the main house with Grandpa until you decide to forgive her.”
“She’ll be living with Grandpa for a long time.”
Who knew a seven-year-old could hold a grudge. “At some point, you have to forgive her for your own sake. It ain’t good for you to be mad.”
“You’re going to make me talk to the therapist about it, aren’t you?” She leans her head on my shoulder.
“No. I’m not going to force you, but it wouldn’t hurt. Totally up to you.”
“I’ll think about it.”
I chuckle to myself. “Good girl. In the meantime, you can’t be rude to Nita. Do you understand?”
I see her cross her fingers as she tucks them behind her back. “Okay.”
“Crossing fingers doesn’t count.”
She scowls. “Grandma used to say, if you can’t say something nice, ignore the person.”
I laugh. “I think that was Momma’s version of that saying.”
“Do you think Grandma would forgive her.”
“Yes, I do.”
“Grandpa sure seems to love her.”
“He does. You know if she’s staying at Grandpa’s house, you’re bound to run into her.”
“Can’t she go stay at the Magnolia with Margret?”
“No. I promise she won’t move in with us until we’re both ready, but she’s staying at the ranch.”
“Is that so you can keep an eye on her?”
“Maybe a little.” I tweak her nose.
“Fine! But you tell her this is my grandpa’s house, and I’ll come over whenever I feel like it.” She pouts.
“You sound just like your grandpa.” I stand, placing her feet on the ground. “Remember, don’t be rude.”
“I’ll try, but I’m not making any promises,” she says, heading into the hallway and down the stairs.
I follow close behind, and when we make it to the porch, Ellie and Clem are driving under the ranch sign, and the old beat-up blue truck I saw in town is yards behind them.
Daddy’s shotgun is firmly in his grip when he flies off the porch. “Who the hell is coming to the ranch uninvited?” he snarls.
Ellie and Clem park. The other vehicle stops at the end of the drive.
“Who followed you home?” Boone asks Ellie.
“I don’t know. He fell in behind us at the turn on Whiskey River Road.”
The same guy from town gets out of the truck. He throws his hands in the air when Daddy aims his rifle.
“Who the fuck are you?”
Wyatt and I step between Daddy and the man.
“Are you Chet Calhoun?”
“You didn’t answer my question. Who the fuck are you?”
Margret makes her way over to him. “This is Noah. He’s staying at the Magnolia. Ian’s hired him to build a model home.”
“I don’t give a rat’s ass who he’s working for. Now, answer the question.”
He lowers one hand, pulling an envelope out of his back pocket, slowly holding it out. Wyatt takes it from him.
“He might want to read it in private,” Noah says.
“Daddy, put that thing away. You don’t have to be so unfriendly.” Clem pushes the barrel downward.
Ellie steps up close to him. “You and Ian friends?”
“No. He’s my boss,” he says as he moves toward his truck. “Read the letter. It will explain everything you need to know.”
Daddy snatches it from Wyatt, throwing it on the ground, grinding it in the dirt with his heel. “You have something to say, you say it, boy!”
Noah spins on his boot heel, treading through the middle of us until he’s inches from my dad. His face seethes with anger as his lips twitch with words he doesn’t end up saying. He turns back around and throws open his truck door that threatens to fall off when he slams it shut.
I choke back dust as he spins out. I bend down, picking up the dirty envelope. “Maybe one of us should read it.”
“Give me that!” Daddy jerks it from my hand, darting inside the house.
Boone follows with Wyatt on his heels.
“Should we go inside?” Clem asks.
“I’m out of here. I’m betting it’s more trouble, and I’ve got enough to deal with.” Ellie gets in her vehicle.
“I’m going to go with Margret to the Magnolia and see what I can find out about Noah,” Ethan says.
It finally dawns on Clem that Nita is by my side. “I’m so glad you’re back.” She rushes in for a hug.
“I’m glad you are,” Missy mumbles. I give her the evil eye. She huffs and storms off toward the barn. “Tell Uncle Boone I’m waiting for him in Moonshine’s stable,” she throws over her shoulder.
“You and I have a lot of catching up to do,” Clem says.
“You’ll have plenty of time for that, but I need to speak to Nita in private.”
Nita’s brows furrow.
“We’ll talk later. I’m going inside to make sure they aren’t plotting something dangerous.” Clem runs to the house.
I take my hat off, gripping it at my hip.
“What is it? You look worried.” Nita touches my arm.
“Don’t take this the wrong way, but you can’t stay at my house.”
“But I thought…”
“Let me finish. Missy ain’t warming up so easily. She’s still angry that you left and is afraid you’ll do it again. She just needs time. I promised I wouldn’t let you live with us for now. You’ll stay at the main house with my dad.”
“I should get a place of my own.”
“I want you here with me.”
She lifts a brow. “To keep an eye on me?”
“If you want, one of the small cottages is open. It’s not much and probably smells like the last cowhand that lived there, but it’s yours if you want it.”
“I can come and go as I want?”
“Yes.” I don’t want her to, but I find myself making concessions with not one, but the two women in my life.
“I want to work at the diner.”
“I’m sure my dad would love to have you work for him again.”
“I could do both. The diner is part-time, and I could use the money.”
“You don’t have to work. I’ll take care of you.”
She steps up close to me. “I know you would, and I thank you for it. I really want to do this on my own. One day, when we’re married, I’ll let you take care of me.”
I lean in for a kiss. “I’d marry you tomorrow.”
Running my hand through her black hair, it feels so good. “Thank you for understanding. Missy is my first priority. She’s a tough little cowgirl, but she’ll come around.”
“I hope so. I’m sorry I hurt her.”
“I know. You need to tell her when she lets you in again.”
“I will. I promise.”
“Let’s go get the keys to the cottage and get you settled.”
“Thanks, Bear.”
I kiss the side of her head. “I didn’t say I wouldn’t sneak over when little miss isn’t around.” I smack her ass, and for the first time, she lights up with a genuine smile.
“I’d like that.”
Damn. I’m hard thinking about it. Slow and easy boy, I tell myself. We walk into the kitchen to grab the keys. Daddy, Wyatt, Boone, and Clem are all arguing.
“Aren’t you going to open the letter?” Wyatt asks.
Daddy rips the flap open and reads it to himself.
“What does it say?” Clem tries to take it from him.
Daddy holds up the envelope. “Is your name on this or mine?” he growls.
“I have a feeling whatever it is, concerns all of us.” Wyatt’s pacing.
“That’s for me to decide.” Daddy wads up the note, stuffing it in his pocket. “Work ain’t getting done with the likes of all of you badgering me. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have chores to do.”
Chapter Six
Ellie
I arrive at the Magnolia the same time as Margret and Ethan. She goes directly into her office. Ethan disappears like a man on a mission.
“You working on the books today?” Margret asks.
“No. I want the keys to Noah’s room.” I hold out my hand.
“You know I can’t give you his keys.” She props a hand on her hip. “Why don’t you just ask him what was in the letter?”
“Because he ain’t going to tell me,” I tisk at her.
“The little I know of the sandy-haired cowboy, he seems awful nice.”
I step up close to her. “Do you know where he’s from?”
Her brows draw together. “Texas, I think.”
“Anything else you can tell me?”
The front door chimes with customers. Margret walks past me to greet the couple. I flip through her guest book to find out what room Noah is staying in. I sneak by Margret, taking the stairs two at a time until I find his room. I knock. When he doesn’t answer, I take a credit card out of my wallet, picking the lock. Just as I stand, opening the door, Ethan shoves me inside.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
“Probably the same thing you are. Snooping.”
“I came up here to repair a dripping faucet,” he says.
“Where’s your tools, Mr. Fixit?” I stick my nose in the air at him.
“Fine. I’m snooping.” He starts rummaging through the drawers. I open the closet, searching for any sign of what Noah wants.
The doorknob jiggles.
“Hide,” Ethan whispers, pointing to the bed.
I quietly shut the closet door. Getting on my hands and knees, I join Ethan under the bed. We collectively hold our breath when the door opens. Tan, dirty boots walk across the floor. Keys hit the bedside table before he makes his way to the closet. I see a shirt hit the floor and hear the rustling of hangers.
When his phone rings, he answers it as he sits on the bed. The mattress dips down, almost touching Ethan’s chest. We stare at each other as we listen.
“Yeah, I gave him the letter. He threw it on the ground and stomped on it.”
He listens.
“I don’t know, Sis. He’s got a whole slew of grown children. They were all there. Maybe once he reads it, I’ll have an answer for you.”
Someone knocks on his door.
“I gotta go.” He hangs up the phone and opens the door. “That was quicker than I thought.”
A pair of dark, worn cowboy boots that I recognize strolls into the room. I hear the rustling of paper being opened. “How do you know Mae Thatcher?” my father says.
Noah closes the door. “She was my mother,” he answers.
“Was?” Daddy says.
“She died six months ago from cancer.”
“What does that have to do with me?” Daddy sounds gruff.
“She told me on her death bed who my father was.”
“Did she now.” Daddy walks back and forth between the door and the bed. “Did she leave you any proof?” He stops in front of Noah.
“If you’d studied my face for a moment, you’d know the truth.” I hear a faint choke in his voice.
I scowl at Ethan, and he raises a finger to his lips.
“I’m going to need more proof than your looks that you’re my son.”
My jaw nearly hits the floor. I go to move, but Ethan’s hand clamps down on mine. He shakes his head, stopping me.
“If you came here thinking you’re getting anything from me, you’re sorely mistaken.” Daddy’s words are powerful.
“If you think I’m walking away with nothing, you’re wrong.” Noah’s tone turns turbulent, matching Daddy’s.
“You get me proof before you step on my land again.” Daddy marches out, slamming the door.
Noah’s keys make a scraping sound when he grabs them. He stomps out, locking the door behind him.
“What the hell?” I stare at Ethan. Neither one of us gets out from under the bed. “Daddy cheated on Momma?”
“You don’t know that for sure.” Ethan holds my hand in his.
“I knew there was a look in his eyes that reminded me of Daddy.” I pause for a second. “And he has a sister!”
“I think we should stay out of it until your dad wants us to know anything.”
I scramble from under the bed and plop down on it. “Like hell. I need to find out exactly what he’s after.”
“Let your dad deal with it.”
“If he cheated on Momma, I’ll never forgive him.” I lie back. Ethan joins me.
There is a long silence between us. “Is he the reason you don’t love me?”
I know he’s talking about Ian. “He’s the reason I’ve never loved any man.”
“What happened between the two of you?”
I roll to my side to face him. “I couldn’t give him what he wanted.”
“What was that?”
I press my lips together, ashamed to say the words. “Doesn’t matter. He left, ending things with us.”
“Do you think he came back to town to work things out?”
“No. I think he came back to torture me.”
He moves to face me. “If he’s the reason you can’t be with anyone else, maybe you should give him a second chance.”
“Why do you have to be so damn sweet to me?” I run my hand over his jawline.
“Because I love you, and I want you to find what you’re missing.” He places his hand over my heart. “I know you can come across as rough and tough, but I’ve seen the softer side of you. A good man deserves to have that, and you deserve the same.”
“Who says Ian Daughtry is a good man?” I rise from the bed.
He gets up. “Is he?”
“Any man that could desert the woman he claimed to love can’t be all that good.”
He stands nose to nose with me. “The look in your eyes say otherwise, Ellie Calhoun.”
I make my way to the door, opening it quietly, peering out. “It’s long over between the two of us.” I say the words, but my heart doesn’t believe it. “Fix the leaky faucet. I’ve got work to do,” I say, stepping out in the hallway. Making my way downstairs, Margret is back in her office.
“What room is Ian in?”
Her eyes slit at me. “What are you up to, Ellie?”
“Nothing.” I shrug.
She writes his room number on a notepad, tears off the paper, and hands it
to me. “Don’t go gettin’ your heart broken again.”
“You should worry about Ian, not me.” I glance at the room number and toss it back on her desk. “Thanks.”
He has the largest room in the house on the top floor. I don’t bother knocking; I know he’s at work until later. Picking my second lock of the day, I inch my way inside. The room smells of him. Picking up one of the pillows, I inhale his scent. “Gawd, I’ve missed his earthiness.” Opening his closet, he’s got a neatly lined row of shirts, jeans, and boots on the floor. I open every cabinet in his bathroom then move to the dressers. I pick up one of his t-shirts out of his top drawer, holding it to my nose like the pillow. When I put it back, I feel something hard underneath one of his shirts. Pulling it out, it’s a picture frame lying facedown. I gasp when I flip it over. It’s a picture of Ian and me taken shortly before he left town.
We’d had a picnic down by the river. Ian had packed a basket full of goodies. He wasn’t one for cooking, so Momma had helped him. The day was gorgeous, with a slight hint of fall in the air. We ate on the red-and-white blanket then made love.
I remember vividly, Ian kept rubbing his pocket so hard, I thought he’d make a hole in it. He was so nervous. He kept telling me how much he loved me and pressing me for what he wanted. I, being the stupid girl who’d watched her sister leave the best guy in the world at the altar, was unable to tell him what he wanted to hear from me.
The look on his face was pure devastation. My words hung in my throat, and I was unable to choke them out. He left me with my blouse unbuttoned, lying by the river all by my lonesome.
I gave him a couple of days and found the courage to tell him how I felt, but it was too late. He’d left town without a word. Without a note. I knew damn good and well why he did it. He broke my heart, and I’ve never been the same.
Placing the picture back under his t-shirt, I head for the door and walk smack dab into Ian’s chest.
He smiles, moving me back inside his room, shutting the door behind him. “What are you doing in my room, Ellie?” He tosses his hat on the dresser.
“I came to see you, but you didn’t answer.”
“So you thought you’d do a little nosing around?” I move backward as he saunters forward.
“I waited for you.” I raise a shoulder.
