Hoping for a Father

by Lois Richer

  “I have to go to Ella’s concert,” she said, her tone icy. “Believe what you want about me. I don’t care. All I care about is my daughter and keeping this ranch running profitably until Ben and Bonnie can take over.” Her emerald eyes hardened as they met his. “Then I will leave. For good.” Her voice oozed scorn. “I wouldn’t want you to feel like I was pushing in on your inheritance.”

  “I don’t want...” He was talking to air.

  Mandy had jumped onto a quad Drew hadn’t even realized was there and was now speeding away, leaving him standing here. Alone.

  With her departure, his anger and irritation dissipated to nothing. He began walking toward the house. He’d work some more. He could always lose himself in his work.

  But then he paused, remembering Ben had planned an outing for some kids tomorrow. Drew needed to do a trial ride, see if he remembered the old paths.

  “Never saw Mandy so riled before,” a disapproving voice said from behind him. “That woman gets along with everyone, even the orneriest old bull. What did you do?”

  “I didn’t do anything,” Drew sputtered indignantly. He exhaled, ordered calm into his brain before turning to study a man, a slightly older ranch hand, standing in front of him. “I’m Ben’s eldest son. I’m taking over for him. I haven’t ridden since Christmas so I’d like to get reacquainted—”

  “Mandy told me this morning. That’s why I’m here. She said I’m to go with you. Name’s Oliver Kent, but everyone calls me Ollie. You’re Drew.” He thrust out a work-roughened hand and they shook.

  “Nice to meet you, Ollie. But I don’t need a babysitter. Just a horse and a saddle. I’ve ridden that route a hundred—what?” he demanded irritably when Ollie shook his head.

  “Ben recently changed up all the routes,” Ollie explained. “Everything works in a set pattern now. The best vista stops, most advantageous picnic spots, sites where open campfires don’t pose a danger to the environment.” He tilted his head just the slightest to eye Drew from under the brim of his well-worn Stetson. “Mandy told me to show you.”

  It was clear to Drew that what Mandy ordered happened. No point in involving Ollie in their differences.

  “Okay. Let’s go saddle up,” he said with a shrug.

  “You got any boots?” Ollie’s wrinkled nose expressed exactly what he thought of Drew’s fancy footwear.

  “I’ll check in the house. Maybe I can find my old ones.” He stepped forward, then halted. “Which horse am I riding?”

  “Raven.” Ollie raised one eyebrow when Drew issued a snort of disgust.

  “Raven’s a hundred years old,” he protested.

  “Mandy said.”

  “Right.” Drew strode toward the house, fuming at the indignity. If he had a vehicle handy, he’d have left.

  Which would solve nothing because clearly Mandy’s word was law, despite the fact that he had just as much experience on this ranch as she did.

  Not true and not recently, Drew, his reasonable brain reminded. And you’re not here for Mandy. You’re here for Bonnie and Ben.

  But that didn’t mean he and Mandy weren’t going to have another heart-to-heart. Soon.

  Chapter Three

  Mandy sat on her front step later that evening, phone in hand, watching the stars come out as she talked.

  “Don’t be silly, Aunt Bonnie. I’m glad you called. I know you’re worried about your animals and your home.”

  “I’m more worried about how you and Drew are getting along,” the older woman murmured. “I’ve been praying for both of you.”

  “Thank you. We certainly need it.” Mandy held a private debate with herself before admitting, “I’m trying. But whether he’s doing it on purpose or not, he gets under my skin. He’s changed so much.”

  “So have you. It’s part of growing up, sweetheart. And you’re both bound to hit a few speed bumps after so many years without speaking to each other.” Bonnie talked to someone else for a moment, then returned to the conversation. “Things have changed for both of you. I can’t imagine Drew wants to be there.”

  “Why do you say that? This is his home. You’ve always made it welcoming for him,” Mandy insisted, staunchly supportive of this woman who always gave from her heart. “And of course, he loved seeing you and Ben again yesterday.”

  “Yes, but Drew has a love-hate relationship with the Double H. Always has.” Something between a laugh and a gasp transmitted over the line.

  “Are you all right?’ Mandy hated that Whitefish was too far away to visit the couple after work. “Anything I can do?”

  “Thank you, dear, but no.” Bonnie squeezed out a breath. “It’s something that only time and God can heal. But you do understand what I mean about Drew, don’t you?”

  “That he always compared the Double H to the home he lost when his birth parents died?” She nodded before remembering that Bonnie couldn’t see. “I know he thought that. I never understood why.”

  “Drew’s older, the big brother,” Bonnie mused. “He always tried to take care of the other boys, but there was so much about their new life on the ranch that he couldn’t control.” She paused.

  “Meaning?” Mandy pressed.

  “Well, I always had this sense that Drew needed to replace what he’d lost. Or maybe he felt responsible for the accident. Maybe the three boys were arguing or something and his dad was distracted?” She sighed. “I don’t know. I only know that in his nine-year-old mind, our home never measured up to the one he lost.”

  “And you think he’s still hanging on to that? But he’s an adult. He has to know differently now.” It irritated Mandy that this wonderful woman should feel she hadn’t given enough, hadn’t done enough for Drew.

  “Kids always remember the past with rose-colored glasses.” Bonnie brushed it off as if it didn’t bother her, but Mandy knew better.

  “The other Calhoun brothers loved it here.”

  “Not enough to come back and stay,” Bonnie pointed out sadly.

  “No.” Mandy hesitated but finally confided, “In high school I always felt that Drew loved the ranch and everything on it.”

  “Really?” Bonnie sounded skeptical.

  “Yes. He took great pride in naming the Double H as his home when he won all those roping contests.” Mandy so wanted to ease this adoptive mother’s heart.

  “Yet he never mentioned staying on the ranch or taking over.” Bonnie’s words held regret. “He was always college-bound.”

  “I think Drew did want to stay. I think that inside he was torn about leaving.” It sounded silly, but Mandy couldn’t rid herself of the feeling that had persisted since high school. “I’ve always wondered if that was because he was afraid of taking over, afraid of the responsibility, afraid of failing.”

  “Drew? Failing?” Bonnie scoffed in a gentle chuckle. “It’s nice of you to make me feel better, sweetie, but I always knew Drew was focused first and foremost on his math studies. It’s only natural he felt compelled to see where his interest would take him.”

  Mandy let that go, uncertain about asking what was on her heart.

  “What are you thinking, dear?” Bonnie had always been able to read her silences.

  “What I said about him being afraid...” She bit her lip, but the question wouldn’t go away.

  “Yes?” Bonnie prodded.

  “Do you think fear could have been behind Drew’s insistence that he never wanted kids?” When Bonnie didn’t immediately respond, Mandy hurried on with her thought. “We never discussed it, you know. I think it was a foregone conclusion with him, that he assumed I felt the same.”

  “Maybe because having a family didn’t fit into his excessively meticulous plans,” Bonnie murmured. “Remember those lists for your futures? He tried so hard to predict every detail of life, as if anyone can do that.” Her chuckle was quickly followed by a gasp. “No
te to self, don’t laugh again. It hurts.”

  Immediately guilt filled Mandy. Why was she bothering Bonnie with this?

  “Sorry, sweetie,” Bonnie said gently. “But I can’t explain Drew’s reason for not wanting children in his world.”

  “He really stressed it on the phone that time, right before I was supposed to come home for the break in October. That was the weekend I was going to tell him—” A new thought hit. “Do you think Drew knew I was pregnant?”

  “How could I possibly have known that?”

  Mandy gasped. Drew stood at the bottom of the steps, staring at her, eyes dark with confusion and—anger?

  “I have to go, Bonnie,” Mandy said into her phone as her heart sank to her toes.

  God, this is so not the way...

  “I’ll be praying, sweetie.” Bonnie hung up.

  Mandy tucked her phone into her pocket as she tried to figure out how to do this without hurting Drew.

  But there was no way.

  “Mandy?” Uncertainty, though it would be barely perceptible to anyone who hadn’t known him as she had, laced the edges of Drew’s voice. “Why in the world would you imagine I could’ve known you...?”

  He stopped, froze, and then reared back as if she’d struck him with a two-by-four. His eyes searched hers as his brain began assembling the pieces.

  “Ella—” Drew seemed to choke on the name.

  “Is your daughter.” Mandy was amazed at the weight that fell away when she finally said it. But that was quickly replaced by panic as he towered over her, eyes burning. “I intended to tell you that weekend,” she whispered. “But then you called, furious because some kid had spilled his soda on your computer and you’d lost your entire project and it was his fault and...”

  He said nothing, merely crossed his arms and waited for her to explain.

  “You were adamant when you said you never wanted children, Drew. You said you couldn’t imagine ever being tied down. You said you had a lot to do with your life and children weren’t going to be part of it.” Mandy let it all pour out, every pain-inflicting word, as well as the soul-deep ache that had almost drowned her. “I tried to reason with you, do you remember?”

  “No.” Drew shook his head once, his face an implacable mask.

  “That weekend we were both home. I intended to tell you. I tried so hard to discuss family, children, how they could make us better, improve our world. How they’re our hope for the future. I used every possible reason I could think of to get you to retract,” she whispered. “I tried everything.”

  “Except the truth.” Icicles hung off his words. “When you couldn’t convince me, you went back to Missoula and concocted your pathetic little brush-off, right?” His snide smile flickered. “I knew something was up with that whole scenario. I tried to contact you, but you’d moved, changed your phone number—” He broke off, thought for a minute, then demanded, “Did Bonnie and Ben know?”

  “No one knew,” she said, choking back tears. “I had a little money left from selling our ranch, the bit that was left after I buried my parents and paid off their debts. I got a job and worked as much as I could until Ella was born.”

  “And then?” Fury seemed to radiate from Drew, and the worst part was that Mandy couldn’t blame him. He had to be feeling shocked, confused, betrayed. All the things she’d felt. The difference was she’d had six years to get over it.

  As if she’d ever get over losing... She pressed on.

  “Ella needed ongoing specialized care for a while. It cost a lot.” Mandy licked her lips, mentally cowering under the bitter thrust of his chin. “When she was four and a half, I had to take her to a heart specialist. We were coming out of the medical building when I ran into Bonnie and Ben. As soon as they saw her, they knew the truth.”

  “Yet no one told me.” Hostility laced the words.

  “How could I, Drew? Your words were unequivocal. You’d said repeatedly that you did not want children. At all. Ever.” Though it was wrong and Mandy had regretted what happened because she’d gone against the Biblical principles she’d always held dear, Ella had come from love. Mandy could not, would not, regret her daughter.

  “Excuses,” he grated, eyes hard as onyx chips.

  “You were in the midst of your master’s degree by the time I met your parents, Drew. Bonnie and Ben were desperately struggling with the ranch. Don’t you remember?”

  Drew said nothing so Mandy continued.

  “They must have thought Ella and I looked like beggars. They insisted on getting my address. That evening they took us out for dinner. Afterward, Ben took Ella to the park while Bonnie dug the truth out of me.” She smiled. “Once they knew our situation, those two precious soft hearts wouldn’t leave us in our shabby boardinghouse until I promised I’d still be there the next morning to go to breakfast with them.”

  “Why didn’t they give me your phone number? I asked them for it often enough.” The porch light illuminated a flickering muscle in his neck.

  “I didn’t have a phone, Drew. Couldn’t afford one. I couldn’t afford anything. I’d spent the last of our food stamps that morning on milk for Ella. I know how corny that sounds, but it’s true. We were desperately poor.” She gulped. “If it had turned out that Ella needed heart surgery, I had no way to pay for it.”

  She could read his thoughts in the glower clouding his face. My parents could.

  Irritated by his judgment but determined not to give in to anger, Mandy pressed on, “Thank God she didn’t need heart surgery.”

  “Oh, yes,” he agreed contemptuously. “Thank God.”

  “The next morning Bonnie and Ben showed up with movers.” Mandy ignored his scorn. “I’d been laid off. They offered me a job at the ranch, insisted they needed my help. Bonnie had hurt her back, remember? And the reason they were going to the cardiologist, the same one Ella was sent to, was because Ben was getting checked out for heart issues. Neither of them were in good shape. I couldn’t refuse to help them.”

  None of this seemed to reach Drew, who kept glaring at her. Mandy continued with the story, desperate to get it all told now so she could escape.

  “So I came back here,” she said quietly. “That was a year and a half ago.”

  “And now you run Hanging Hearts Ranch.” Drew’s lips curved in a cruel smile.

  “Yes, but it wasn’t immediate. I’ve worked my way up, proven I can handle the job. It wasn’t charity either,” she defended hotly.

  “Of course not. Because you were a rancher and you had the wealth of experience my parents needed.” His nasty tone and dubious expression made her rush to explain.

  “Yes,” she said proudly, thrusting up her chin. “I did. You never understood or appreciated my knowledge of ranching, Drew, because you never wanted to know. You were too involved in your own interests. Truthfully, you didn’t care what I knew unless you needed my help.”

  Drew looked ready to explode, but Mandy wasn’t giving him a chance.

  “When Dad got sick, I ran our spread on my own for over three years, though I doubt you or anyone else realized it,” she said sadly, remembering those difficult days and how she’d wished he’d noticed how badly she was struggling. “I tried really hard to protect his pride.”

  “Hardly the same thing as managing the Double H,” he said mockingly.

  “It was exactly the same,” she shot back. “How do you think I knew the best feed combination for your roping stallion, Drew? Or how to build his muscle with those exercises I insisted you practice before your contests?” Mandy would not allow him to put her down, not in this area. “Dad taught me everything he knew and that was a lot.”

  “That’s—”

  “In our senior year, when we had so much snow, who do you think advised your parents to get their herd out of that upper pasture? I did. Because I’d already moved our herd and knew yours
couldn’t tolerate the conditions up there for long.” Mandy could see the stubbornness in his eyes but she refused to back down. “Do you remember when wolves stole other ranchers’ cattle? Why do you think hungry scavengers left the calves on the Double H alone? It was because your parents changed their fencing—at my suggestion.”

  What was the use? She could see he didn’t believe her.

  “Of course you don’t remember,” Mandy muttered. “You never bothered with my world. You never even asked me if I wanted a family. You just assumed that I wanted the same things as you.” Perhaps that was harsh, but she was fighting for her child now.

  “So it’s time to paint me as the bad guy,” he derided.

  “It’s not about you being bad, Drew. It’s not even about us.” Frustration told her to give up, but Mandy continued anyway. “Don’t you get it? It’s about the truth. You don’t believe me? Ask your parents what it was like when I got here with Ella.”

  “I’m sure they’ll tell your sad—”

  “The day I arrived, I noticed several cattle on the west flat that didn’t look right. I isolated them immediately because I had a hunch they could have hoof-and-mouth disease.” She ignored his gasp and pursed her lips, remembering that tense time. “If it infected the herd, Ben and Bonnie could have lost everything. I insisted we quarantine all our animals for six months. We couldn’t sell any of them until we found out which were infected. We had to wait and see how bad it was.”

  “More secrets. No one told me any of this.” Drew’s eyes narrowed. “What did my parents do for income if they couldn’t sell their animals?”

  “Ben increased his outfitting, turned it into a business instead of just a hobby. Bonnie added evening riding classes and began raising chickens. She sold eggs in town.” Mandy wasn’t sure whether to reveal just how dire the situation had been, or to gloss it over so he wouldn’t feel guilty.

  “What else? I want to know it all,” he insisted.

  “We expanded the garden and sold every extra bit of produce we could raise at the local farmer’s market,” she told him. “During winter evenings and in our spare moments, Bonnie and I quilted. We sold the quilts online because your parents didn’t want any of the local folks to know how bad it was.”