Hoping for a Father

by Lois Richer

  “But there are strangers coming and going at the ranch all the time,” he protested.

  “There are. However, the main people in her world besides me—Bonnie, Ben and Trina—are constants. Her preschool is a constant.” She shrugged. “Anyway, that’s what her psychologist says is helping.”

  “Psychologist? That has to be expensive.” Drew whistled.

  “It is. Very. I’m grateful my health plan covers it, and this psychologist is worth every penny.” Mandy searched desperately for an alternative subject.

  “Come on, Mama! Hurry!” Ella bellowed, her eyes wide with excitement.

  “Coming.” Mandy nudged her horse with her knees and trotted toward her daughter. “How come you’re so impatient today?”

  “I wanna pick wildflowers up there,” Ella muttered as she slid off her pony and pointed to the craggy peak towering above them. “I’m gonna get Auntie Bonnie’s favorite an’ take them to her an’ Uncle Ben next time we go.”

  “But the flowers will wilt—”

  “Auntie Bonnie told me she’s missing her wildflowers,” Ella insisted, a determined set to her chin that reminded Mandy of Drew. “She was sad.”

  “Then we must pick her some wildflowers and cheer her up,” her father agreed. “We have to walk from here, right?” At Mandy’s nod, Drew tied his and Ella’s horses loosely to the branch of a tree. He raised one eyebrow, obviously waiting for her to do the same. “Another headache?” he guessed quietly when she rubbed the throbbing spot on her forehead. “Do you get them often?”

  “I’m fine.” How did he notice things like that? It was almost as if he was inside her head. Vowing to be less transparent, Mandy dismounted, tied the horse and shouldered the pack she always carried on her trips with Ella. “Ready?” she asked her daughter.

  “Uh-huh.” Ella fastened her hat under her chin and stepped forward confidently toward the path that led up to the rocky promontory known as Big Rock. “Did you bring the camera, Mama? I want to text Aunt Bonnie a picture, too.”

  “I have my phone. We’ll use that.” Ella took a step forward but Mandy stopped her. “I go first, honey. Like we always do,” she added as a reminder. “You go next, then Drew can follow. Okay?” She glanced at him for confirmation.

  “Good by me.” Drew nodded.

  As her daughter launched into an off-key chorus she’d learned at church, Mandy stepped onto the path and surreptitiously scanned her surroundings. On a ride near here a week ago, she’d found signs that a bear with cubs had been in the area. As usual, she’d brought her spray and whistle. She’d encountered the animals before and scared them away, so she wasn’t worried. Just on the lookout.

  “It’s unlikely there’s any creature lurking within a mile given Ella’s uh, singing,” Drew murmured in her ear.

  “Maybe.” She tilted her head to look at him and felt a shiver of awareness sift through her along with—what? A wishful hope for something that could never be? Suddenly conscious that she was staring, Mandy hastily moved forward to catch up to her daughter who had rushed past them both, eager to collect her precious flowers.

  “We can sit here, Mama,” Ella called.

  “Ella, wait.” Mandy climbed faster, slipped and finally ascended the top. Drew passed her as she bent to check her scraped knee while mentally preparing a rebuke for her daughter.

  “Ella...” Something in Drew’s breathless whisper made Mandy look.

  She froze, terror gripping her. Ella stood teetering on the craggy edge of a promontory, loose stones beneath her shoes. Vivid cracks showed along the edge, no doubt due to the drought they were experiencing.

  Oh, Lord, help!

  “Isn’t it pretty, Mama?” Ella waved a hand to encompass the valley laid out before them. A pebble broke free beneath her foot and tumbled down into the vast space. She barely noticed. “Like a picture.”

  A dangerous picture that could send her daughter hurtling down the hillside any moment.

  Mandy met Drew’s gaze and gulped. She felt encased in ice, unable to move, breathe or beg Ella to step back. For once she had to depend on him because all she could do was silently pray.

  “Ella, I want you to step backward two steps.” Drew’s hoarse tone betrayed his own fear.

  “Like in a game?” Ella asked gaily. She turned slightly to grin at him, inadvertently sending a rock shower down the precipice.

  “Stop!” Drew cleared his throat when Ella stared at him uncertainly. “Yes, Bella Ella.” His voice altered, grew softer, more coaxing. “Exactly like in a game. The game is, you can’t take a step unless I say, Mama says. If I say, take a step and I don’t say Mama says, you can’t do it. Okay?”

  “I don’t like games.” Ella could sense something wasn’t right. Her eyes searched her father’s before she looked at Mandy.

  “You’ll be really good at this game, sweetheart.” Mandy forced herself to sound unconcerned, even happy. “It’s an easy one. I’m going to play, too. Okay, Drew?”

  “Sure. It’s always better if there are more people. Okay, Ella, Mama says, take one baby step backward. Good,” he applauded when, after an unsure pause, she stepped back. “Mandy, take one giant step forward.”

  “No, Mama!” Ella yelled excitedly when Mandy lifted her foot. “He didn’t say Mama says.”

  “Right.” Mandy stayed where she was but tossed a dark glare at Drew. As if this was the time to trick her! But Drew didn’t look like he was teasing. He looked as scared as she felt.

  “Ella, Mama says take four medium-sized steps backward.” Drew waited until Ella had complied. She was almost safely away from the dangerous cliff edge. Almost. He sent Mandy moving right, toward her daughter. “Good. Now Ella, take six giant steps backward. Mama says,” he added quickly.

  “I can only take five,” the little girl protested when she bumped into her mother and they both collapsed onto the ground. Ella gave the white-faced man a dubious look before whispering, “I don’t think Drew knows this game very good, Mama.”

  “Very well,” Mandy corrected automatically. “I think he knows it just fine, baby.” She wrapped her arms around her child and hung on while offering a silent prayer of thanks.

  “You win, Ella. Good game.” Drew high-fived the smiling child.

  Mandy released her daughter, her heart brimming with relief.

  “Thank you,” she said to Drew when Ella was safely picking the wildflowers far back from the crag. “That was a smart move.”

  “Instinct. I think I just aged ten years.” He raked a hand through his hair. “How is it that you’re not yet gray?”

  “Hair color,” she teased. “Seriously, thank you. I don’t know what I’d have done if you hadn’t been here.”

  “You’d have figured out something. I’m sure this isn’t the first time Ella’s needed rescuing.” He sagged wearily. “I doubt it will be the last.”

  “On that cheerful thought, let’s take a break by this tree.” Mandy dared Drew to argue as she insisted, “You brought chocolate bars and I want half of one. Now. I need the sugar. You can have what’s left of my coffee. Maybe it will revive you.”

  “I doubt it, but thanks. I accept.” Drew took the thermos from her, unfastened the top and poured the last few ounces of the coffee into it. “I follow the package directions to the letter, but my coffee never tastes like this. Never,” he added mournfully after the first sip. He closed his eyes, obviously enjoying the hit of caffeine. “I have never been so afraid in my entire life.”

  “Really?” Mandy blinked. “You didn’t look as terrified as I felt. My jaws locked and I couldn’t let out the scream inside.”

  “Good thing you didn’t. Ella might have stepped over the edge. Although I have to say...” He paused, brows furrowed as he thought it over. “I have never seen anyone as sure-footed as she is. Or maybe nimble is the word.”

  “It took a w
hile for Ella to learn to walk like that. She bumped into stuff and fell down for eons until a neighbor, a former ballet dancer, taught her to walk gracefully with her back straight, like gliding, only she called it moonwalking. She coaxed Ella to do exercises to music, which strengthened her muscles. Ella loved it.”

  “Nice lady,” Drew murmured.

  “A gift from God when I truly needed one.” A rush of pride filled Mandy. “Ella practiced faithfully day after day. She slowly learned how to carefully place her feet for each step just like Miss Grace.” She smiled at the memory. “Those lessons are engraved in her brain, just like our days with Miss Partridge are.”

  “Oh, why did you have to mention her? I’d just begun to recover.” Drew sagged against the tree, his expression grimly comical. “This morning, before I left with the group, she told me my seat was off, that I’d lost my posture position. As if!”

  Mandy hid her grin behind her hand, pretending to cough as she watched Ella choose the very best wildflowers for her bouquet for Bonnie.

  “Actually,” he mused, “it sounded like something you’d say to those teenage girls who come to train for riding in formations.” His gaze narrowed.

  “I did say something like that to Miss Partridge at her riding lesson this morning. She obviously practiced it to tell someone else.” Mandy couldn’t stop her laughter when he glowered. “Get over it. She’s a lonely old lady with a heart of gold who—”

  “Has a tongue like a sword,” Drew finished with a growl.

  “And a brain just as sharp. Don’t do anything to set her off,” Mandy warned. “Or she’ll start looking for something to tell the world about us. And don’t ask her any questions. You know how she loves to show off her encyclopedic memory.”

  “Good to know years of taxpayer dollars are being put to good use,” he grumbled, then grimaced. “Sorry, that’s cranky of me.”

  “Very.” She ducked her head, noted his face seemed whiter than normal when he studied Ella. “What’s the matter?”

  “This parenting thing.” Drew’s voice had a ragged edge. “Not that I will ever be one,” he assured her, barely meeting her gaze before looking away. “Today just proved that. How do you survive it, Mandy? One afternoon and I feel like I’ve just suffered a major heart attack.”

  “It’s not like this every day,” Mandy said, a rush of sympathy swelling. “Most kids are curious. They like to explore. With Ella, I’ve encouraged that, but I also try to ensure she understands that there are boundaries and that she’ll face consequences if she deliberately breaks the rules. Today I wasn’t clear enough, I guess.”

  “She didn’t realize she was in danger,” he whispered in amazement, watching as Ella danced in the flower meadow, swaying from side to side, arms outstretched as if she was floating. “I’m actually glad about that.”

  “You are?” Mandy watched him nod. “Why?”

  “Because I remember being afraid when I first moved here,” Drew said, his voice harsh. “I was terrified of everything, especially that I’d be left alone again.”

  Mandy kept silent, sensing he needed to say this.

  “I was awake after the accident. I knew when my parents didn’t answer me that they were gone. My brothers weren’t conscious either.” Drew exhaled heavily. “I was alone for what seemed like hours. I had nightmares about it for a long time. I don’t ever want Ella to feel like I did.”

  “You never told me about any nightmares.” Proof positive that she had never really known Drew?

  “I never told anyone. I made myself get over it.” He said the words stiffly, as if it hurt to admit.

  Suddenly Mandy understood. That nine-year-old boy had made himself get over it by learning how to survive as a loner. Only he’d never really gotten over it at all. Sadness gripped Mandy for that traumatized child who was now a man but who was still afraid.

  “Do you think that soon Ella will stop asking me if I’m going to be her daddy?” Drew’s quiet question broke through her thoughts.

  “I doubt it.” Mandy had to be honest because it might help him, show him he needed to keep some distance between his daughter and himself if he was not going to pursue the relationship.

  Pursue the relationship? Get real, Mandy.

  Wasn’t it about time to stop hoping and praying, even pretending to herself that something might change Drew’s mind, at least about being a father to Ella?

  Chapter Eight

  “I need Thursday evenings off, starting this week.”

  A few days later Mandy blinked, surprised to see Drew standing in the doorway of her office, but even more surprised by his request.

  “Okay,” she agreed after a glance at the wall schedule. “Doesn’t look like it’s a problem until the last week of June.” She made a note.

  “By which time I’ll probably be gone.” He nodded, pushed back his Stetson. “Thanks.” Her curiosity must have revealed itself on her face because he snickered. “Go ahead. Ask me.”

  “None of my business,” she said and bent to recheck her latest computer entry.

  “Guess anyway,” he said, his voice lighthearted.

  Playful Drew. She hadn’t seen this side of him since—never mind.

  “I have some accounting to do, Drew. It’s not the best time—” Mandy bit her lip. Maybe if she just played along, he’d leave quicker and she’d be able to breathe again.

  “Work,” she guessed, but she knew her response came too late from the way his eyes lit up at the word accounting.

  “Wrong. I’m joining John Purdy’s men’s Bible study.” He chuckled at her surprise. “Courtesy of Oliver. Miss Partridge suggested to him that I might enjoy their men’s group. Do you think I have to thank her?” He made a face.

  “Yes, because that is a special group of men. Enjoy it.” Mandy bent her head, hoping he’d take the hint and leave. As if.

  “Did I see Jeff Sanderson in here earlier?” Drew’s scrutiny was intense.

  “Yes.” She laid down her pencil. “Turns out I owe him a big apology.”

  “Because?” One imperious eyebrow arched as if he highly doubted that.

  “Turns out he really does want to have dinner with me,” she began, holding up a hand to forestall his interruption, “to discuss my thoughts on an appropriate and memorable gift for his wife after the birth of their child.”

  “Oh.” Drew blinked.

  “Oh, indeed. Shame on me for thinking bad thoughts about him.” Mandy huffed out a breath that blew her bangs awry. “Now, please excuse me. I need to get back to work.”

  “What’re you doing?” Drew pulled up a chair, sat down beside her uninvited and grinned. “Excel. I’m impressed.”

  “Don’t be. It’s still my least favorite program,” she grumbled.

  “Meaning you’re still no good at the formulas.” He studied the screen. “Dare I ask what you’re trying to do?”

  Mandy exhaled. Clearly Drew wasn’t going away just yet.

  “Ben has always lumped supply costs together, but I want to keep separate spreadsheets for different operational facets of the ranch,” she told him, secretly grateful that he’d come along and was willing to help. If there was one thing Drew knew, it was spreadsheets.

  But his proximity made her nervous. Businesslike, she reminded herself.

  “You even want to track the guests’ meal costs?” he asked, his surprise obvious.

  “Everything. If we know where the money’s going, we can be more mindful about how we spend it.” Mandy pointed out what she’d created so far. “I also want to split off the vet bills for each animal, see which ones repeatedly need treatment. Maybe we’re missing something that we could do to cut back on their medical needs.”

  “Very smart,” he agreed, eyes wide with what Mandy hoped was new respect. He studied the computer, then doused the bit of pleasure she’d found. “This isn’t g
oing to work.”

  He tried to explain why, but Mandy had neither the time nor the patience to grasp the finer points of his argument.

  “Just leave me to work on it, Drew. I can get it if I keep at it—oh!” She gasped as her carefully built columns and the information they contained disappeared. “Oh no! That took me forever and now it’s gone. What a waste of time!”

  “It’s not gone. Move over.” Drew growled when she remained in place. “Do you want me to fix this, or not, Mandy? Decide quickly because I have to guide that kids’ choral group shortly. What’s your answer?”

  “Yes,” she said, giving in despite her reservations about having him so close. As she slid her chair to the side, her arm brushed his and her breath caught.

  “All rightie then.” Obviously excited, Drew jubilantly cracked his knuckles, bent over the computer and began tapping. Moments later her numbers reappeared, but in a different format. He minimized that and with a few more taps had a completely new form on the screen, complete with the ranch’s logo on top.

  “How did you—?” Mandy’s heart bumped clear down to her stomach when Drew turned his head and flashed his knee-knocking grin.

  “This is what I do, Manda Panda,” he said, smirking like his ten-year-old self. “I build spreadsheets for analysis.” He winked. “And I’m really, really good at it.”

  “Yes, you are,” she agreed softly, stupidly proud of his abilities when she had no right to be.

  “Okay, so this will be your new form for keeping track of supplies.” Drew explained the columns he’d created.

  “I need a bunch of forms because we have a lot of horses,” she pointed out.

  “This is your template. I’ve labeled it Blank. Every time you want to start a new file for a different horse, you’ll replace Blank with the horse’s name and save it in a brand new expense file. We’ll put that in a subfile for horses, which then goes in the big file called Expenses. You can have a subfile for cattle, one for the petting zoo, even one for garden produce if you want. Okay?” He looked at her expectantly.

  “Um, I already have an expense file.”