Hoping for a Father

by Lois Richer

  Or maybe it was that he hated working with her.

  * * *

  Drew found leaving Bonnie and Ben at the hospital difficult. It was bad enough to see them lying there, trying to hide their suffering, but leaving them alone had never hit him as hard as it did today.

  “It gets to you, doesn’t it?” Mandy’s quiet voice penetrated the soft music that played on the car stereo, accompanied by Ella’s soft snores from the back seat. “Having to walk away knowing there’s nothing you can do to make it better?”

  “I hate it,” he said through gritted teeth.

  “I do, too.” A small smile lifted the corners of her lips, highlighting her beauty. “But they’re getting great care in a place with people who know what to do and will make sure they’re all right.”

  He didn’t say anything. There wasn’t anything to say.

  “I heard you telling Ben your ideas for the ranch. What was his reaction?” she asked.

  “Not much. I think he was in pain by then and talking was difficult.” Drew wasn’t going to remind her they were the same ideas he’d suggested to her last week, the same ideas she’d nixed. Repeatedly.

  “They’re good ideas, Drew, and I wish I could input them.” She sounded sincere. “We just can’t afford it right now. Time wise, staff wise or money wise.”

  “Doesn’t matter. Just suggestions.” Stupidly Drew had thought he could offer more than just guiding people on treks. Now he knew better. Mandy didn’t want him interfering in her work, so he’d concentrate on doing what she asked him and focus on getting through the next few weeks without argument.

  Ella had already overheard their bickering twice. Recently she’d begun to seek him out to demand what he and Mandy were arguing about. They had to stop.

  “Ella’s really tired,” Mandy murmured. “She doesn’t usually snore so loudly.”

  “Or else she’s really full,” Drew said with a grin. “I never saw a kid her age put away a hamburger so fast. I think she got extra fries because she was flirting with the old guy who runs the place.”

  “It was nice of you to buy our supper,” she said.

  “Ella isn’t awkward around strangers at all. I’m surprised by how easily she blends in with the ranch guests.” Drew had never been that easygoing. “She’s very comfortable with herself, no matter if the guests are seniors or kids her age. And it doesn’t seem to matter what the situation is.”

  “Why are you surprised?” Mandy frowned. “Aren’t most kids comfortable with themselves? Until they start their teens anyway.”

  “I never was.” Drew compared himself at nine to Ella now and came up short.

  “Are we home yet?” Ella asked drowsily.

  “Not yet, sweetheart. But we will be soon.” Mandy reached back and pulled a small pink fuzzy blanket from a bag she’d brought. “Snuggle under this and go back to sleep.”

  “Okay.” Mere seconds later Ella’s soft snores resumed.

  “She’s comfortable in herself because of you,” he mused aloud, realizing the truth of it. “Ella knows how much you love her and that you’ll always protect her. That makes her confident.” Even at his age, Drew yearned to feel the same security.

  “I hope she is.” Mandy checked over one shoulder before quietly asking, “How do you know how to answer her nonstop questions about a father?”

  “I don’t, actually. She talks an awful lot about daddies.” He shrugged, reminded of Ella’s questions at the diner when she’d wondered what he would order for his child to eat.

  Ella’s host of other queries kept Drew awake at night, pondering the scary situations that every father probably faced and the certainty that, if called upon, he’d fail.

  “You always respond honestly. As her mother I know that’s sometimes difficult to do.” Mandy grimaced.

  “Ella doesn’t really want me as her father. It’s probably more a case of my being here, staying here, has made her question her status quo.” Drew shrugged. “Maybe some kids at school have asked about me. I think she wants to be reassured, so that’s what I try to do.”

  Mandy remained silent for a moment before admitting, “I never know what to tell her when she asks why her friends have fathers and she doesn’t.”

  Drew frowned. He’d never considered that from Ella’s point of view, only from his own, trying to escape fatherhood. Now, realizing Ella must envy what other kids took for granted, he was reminded of his own childhood confusion. Did Ella blame God for not giving her a dad?

  “How do you answer her?” Drew asked.

  “Thanks to Bonnie, Ella has developed a very strong faith in God. So I usually tell her to pray about things.” Mandy nodded. “And she does. But as we know, kids aren’t patient.”

  “Neither are some adults I know.” He grinned at her sniff of disgust.

  As twilight fell, Drew drove on, lost in his thoughts of Ella, trying to picture her as a teenager, imagining the questions she’d have about boys and love and families. Would she get the answers she needed or would she feel a lack in her life, as he had? Would Mandy be able to satisfy that curious brain, or would she turn to someone else—maybe Bonnie or Ben, or someone Mandy fell in love with? He pushed that thought aside.

  Maybe, if Drew visited again, she’d even ask him. Like a kid asked a casual acquaintance about things she couldn’t ask a parent? He didn’t like that thought either. Possible future scenarios whirled and twisted in Drew’s head so much that he was surprised to find himself automatically turning into the ranch.

  “Thanks for driving us.” Mandy scooted out of her seat and opened Ella’s door.

  “I’ll carry her.” Drew joined her by the rear passenger door, unbuckled Ella and eased her into his arms. “She’s getting too heavy for you.”

  “’Cause I’m fat?” Ella asked, eyes heavy with sleep.

  “No. You’re just right,” he said without even thinking about it.

  “Are you sure?” She yawned.

  “Positive. Why?” Strange how right the warmth of her in his arms felt.

  “’Cause Bobby Tindal said I wouldn’t win the blue ribbon for the race at school because I’m too fat.”

  “Bobby Tindal is wrong.” A sprig of irritation at the unknown boy sprouted, startling Drew with its intensity. “Anyway, winning a blue ribbon for a race isn’t such a big deal. You do lots of other things really well.” He mounted the stairs and carried her into her room. Smiling at her huge yawn, he set her gently on the bed.

  “But I don’t have a blue ribbon an’ I want one,” Ella pouted as she curled on the bed, already half asleep.

  “I’ll get you one, Bella Ella,” he whispered, compelled to brush his lips against her cheek.

  “G’night Drew. I love you.” She smiled when he didn’t immediately respond. “An’ you love me,” she said. And then she was gone, back to her whiffling snores.

  “I should have taken off that dress before she went back to sleep,” Mandy fussed. “If I try now, I’ll have to wake her up again.”

  “Forget it. Let her sleep. I’ll buy her another dress.” A blue ribbon and a new dress. Suddenly aware of what he’d said, uncomfortably mindful that it sounded too familiar, too—fatherly, Drew backed out of the room. “I’d better go. Good night.”

  “Good night,” Mandy called.

  Drew walked out the door. He was tired but it wasn’t a physical tiredness that could be mended with sleep. It was a mental weariness. Why was he here? What was he supposed to do about this child Mandy insisted was his daughter?

  Better yet, what was he supposed to do about Mandy? He knew his parents believed he owed her marriage, but that wasn’t going to happen. For one thing, Mandy would never agree to it. She loved working the ranch. For the past year and a half, she’d made this place Ella’s home. Drew needed the city. That was his home, or it would become so someday. Hopefully.

>   Even if he did stay, which was impossible, Ella, not to mention the whole community of Sunshine, would eventually figure out he was her father. Then Ella’s questions about daddies and his role in her life would balloon. It was already difficult. Add people’s hints and ceaseless gossip, and it could hurt Ella. Never mind that acknowledging his fatherhood but not really being Ella’s father would disrupt the security Mandy had so carefully created for her daughter.

  Drew was in an untenable situation, and for the first time in his life, he couldn’t just walk away from it.

  The night was warm, the wind light, so he walked the ranch, trying to sort out the miasma of confusion that whirled inside, struggling to decipher the spreadsheet that was his incomprehensible future.

  Odd how all the high spots included Mandy and Ella.

  Chapter Seven

  “I’m sad we can’t go camping this summer, Mama.”

  “So am I, sweetheart. But with Auntie Bonnie and Uncle Ben in the hospital, I have to stay here and look after the ranch for them until they’re better.” Mandy didn’t add that she had no idea how much time that might take.

  “’Cause we love them.” Ella nodded before biting a chunk out of her slice of watermelon. She lifted her face to the sun as juice dribbled down her chin, her sunny smile back in place. “I love picnics. An’ I love you.”

  “I love you, too, sweetheart.” Mandy dabbed away the sticky mess and tried not to think about the hundred or so things she should be doing on the ranch. Time with Ella was more important than anything else. That’s what Bonnie and Ben would tell her.

  “You two look comfy.”

  Mandy startled. She hadn’t even heard Drew ride up.

  “May I join you?” he asked, waiting for her nod before he dismounted and looped his horse’s reins around a branch. “That looks yummy.”

  “It is.” Ella held out the container of fruit when he sat beside her. “You get messy eating waterlemon.” She giggled when juice ran down his chin.

  “Watermelon,” Mandy corrected.

  “S’what I said.” Ella grinned. “Mama will have to clean you up.”

  “Will she?”

  The curious hint underlying that question and the look in Drew’s dark eyes sent a shiver through Mandy. Was he flirting with her?

  “How did today’s ride go?” she asked, desperate to get the focus off of her.

  “Oh, great!” Drew’s droll tone and his nose wrinkled in disgust said it all. “Two kids fell off their horses, one ate a bug and the other was sick all over me. I had to take a dip in the creek, which is colder than an iceberg, I might mention, to get rid of the stench. Talk about fun afternoons.”

  “What kind of a bug was it?” Ella asked, eyes wide with curiosity.

  “Not the kind meant for eating, kiddo. Don’t try it.” Drew chuckled at her disappointment.

  “But, Drew...” Mandy hesitated, a worried frown marring her beauty.

  “Don’t look like that, Manda Panda. Everyone is fine,” Drew assured her. “Oliver told one of Ben’s goofy stories, with a few embellishments, and the kids left laughing.”

  Manda Panda, her old nickname that only Drew had ever used, revived a host of memories Mandy didn’t want to revive.

  “Who’s Manda Panda?” Ella’s eyes stretched wide. “Mama?”

  “When I lived here before, I used to call her that,” Drew admitted, dabbing at her wet chin. “Just like I sometimes call you Bella Ella.”

  “Oh.” The little girl thought about it for a moment before excitement had her jumping up. “Can I go swimming, Mama?” Her face shone. “I love swimming.”

  “I know you do, honey. Maybe next week or the week after. Remember Drew said it was really cold? When it warms up a little more, you can try the creek, as long as I’m with you.” She added the last as a warning because recently Ella had become bolder and more adventurous. It was natural but worrying all the same.

  Mandy had planned this afternoon with relaxation in mind. Now she was anything but. Every time this man came near, she tensed up. Because she expected something bad to happen?

  “What did you eat for lunch on the trail ride, Drew?” Ella asked. Her daughter found an interest in every subject.

  “Hot dogs.”

  “That’s not all there was to eat,” Mandy reminded him.

  “No.” Drew shrugged. “There was other stuff. But mostly I concentrated on the hot dogs. With pickles and onions and mustard. Oh, and there was dessert. Brownies. My favorite.”

  “Yum. That makes me want some.” Ella patted her stomach. “We ate sandwiches and waterlemon. It was good, but I want something else.”

  “There’s lots of fruit,” Mandy pointed out hopefully. Once Ella got an idea, she didn’t let go.

  “Unless I eat the last piece,” Drew teased.

  “How come we didn’t bring brownies, Mama?” Ella’s expressive face revealed her disappointment.

  “I brought an afternoon snack we could share. If your mother says it’s okay,” Drew added belatedly after Mandy cleared her throat.

  “What is it?” Mandy nodded when he held out two chocolate bars. “I guess something sweet would be okay.” She sipped from her thermal cup.

  “Is that coffee?” Drew asked, eyes wide.

  “Yes. Why?” Mandy didn’t like the way his gaze narrowed.

  “I’ll share my treats with you,” he said slowly, pretending he was talking to Ella, “on one condition.”

  “What’s a con-dition?” Ella tipped her head to one side like a curious bird.

  “I’ll share with you if you share something with me,” he explained.

  “I already did!” Ella grinned. “Our fruit. ’Member?”

  “Something else.” Drew stared at Mandy, his gaze dark and penetrating.

  “He wants to trade for my coffee, honey.” Ella had seen the chocolate bars. There was no going back now. Mandy held out her cup. “Take it.”

  “No, Mama. You said you needed your coffee so we could hike to the lookout.” Ella glared at Drew. “I don’t want any chocolate,” she said, then added almost belligerently, “Thank you.”

  Drew stared at her as if he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Mandy was surprised, too. Ella had willingly given up her favorite treat to allow her mother to enjoy her favorite thing. The sweet gesture brought tears to her eyes.

  “It’s okay, sweetie. You have the chocolate and Drew can have the coffee. I’ve had enough,” she reassured her.

  But Ella stubbornly shook her head.

  “No, thank you.” She started packing her saddle bag. “Can we go now, Mama?” She avoided looking at Drew.

  Mandy saw the confusion on Drew’s face and knew he was struggling to understand. She wasn’t sure she did either.

  “What’s wrong, honey?”

  “I don’t like con-con-ditions,” Ella said, chin thrust out. “People should share with each other with no con-ditions, ’specially people who love each other.” She gathered the reins of her pony. “Let’s go, Mama.” She ignored Drew completely.

  “Honey, Drew didn’t mean—”

  “Yes, I did, Manda Panda. And Ella knows it.” Drew squatted in front of the little girl. “I’m sorry, Bella Ella. You’re right. Friends share without conditions.” He held out his hand. “I apologize.”

  “’S’okay.” Ella studied him for a moment before thrusting out her own hand to shake his. “But I don’t want any chocolate now ’cause we gotta go afore it gets too late. Auntie Bonnie said you never ever be at Big Rock when it’s dark.”

  “She’s absolutely right. May I join you, Ella?” Drew’s humble request shocked Mandy.

  “Sure.” Ella’s sunny smile was back.

  He must be really bored if he wanted to join them on a hike to a place he’d been to a hundred times before. But Mandy said nothing as
she waited for Ella to mount up and then followed suit. They moved across the meadow silently. Ella seemed content to savor the beauty of the blooming wildflowers around her. As she meandered ahead, Drew pulled his horse next to Mandy’s.

  “It’s good you can find time to ride with Ella,” he said quietly.

  “What does that mean?” Mandy whirled to face him, startling her horse so she had to calm him. “You think I’m slacking off?”

  “Hey, I didn’t say that.” Drew’s lips pursed. “Stop reading ulterior motives into my every word.”

  “They’re usually there,” she muttered, not quite under her breath, eyes on Ella who was about fifty yards ahead.

  “I just meant I’m glad you two can share time together.” Drew’s brow furrowed as his gaze rested on their daughter. “You told me when I first came here that Ella had learning disabilities, which I think, after getting to know her, must be minimal. But I’m curious. Was she born with them?”

  “Her birth was problematic.” Immediately guilt rushed in.

  She’d asked for forgiveness, given up even the idea of love and being loved. Why wasn’t that enough? Mandy so didn’t want to go back to that dark place and those painful memories. Drew would hate her when he knew—

  “Problematic. What does that mean exactly?” he pressed.

  “I had to have surgery. They told me Ella had trouble catching her first breath.”

  So not the whole story, but Mandy was nowhere near ready to bare her heart and reveal her guilty past. Rejection was the likeliest outcome, and she couldn’t deal with that right now.

  “So...?” Drew kept a bead on her.

  “The doctors believe that caused some brain damage which is revealed in several ways. One of them is learning issues,” she offered when Drew kept his gaze on her.

  “Oh.” Silence for a few moments, then, “I’m sorry.”

  “So am I.” Mandy shrugged. “But she’s improving and she’s become much better since we moved here. Less inclined to outbursts, probably because she feels comfortable with the same people around all the time. Or so I’m told.”