by Deb Kastner
“It’s Terri,” she corrected him, and then, upon seeing the rest of the family in the kitchen alcove, said, “Oh, I’m terribly sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt your breakfast.”
“Not a problem,” Peggy said. “Would you like to join us? We have plenty. French toast, bacon and scrambled eggs.”
“No, thank you. I ate earlier. I wouldn’t say no to a cup of coffee, though.”
Tanner had followed Terri into the kitchen and gestured for her to take a seat at the table. He reached for a mug, filling it with the steaming brew and placing it before their guest—although Terri wasn’t exactly a guest in the typical sense of the word.
She was a social worker. Mackenzie’s social worker.
Terri had a smile on her face as she glanced around the table and opened her file folder, quickly browsing its contents.
“Is everything okay with my sister?” Tanner asked, his pulse hammering.
“Actually, I am here to talk about Lydia. But first, how are you doing, Mackenzie? Are you having fun with your uncle Tanner?”
Mackenzie giggled. “He’s a good horsey.”
Terri smiled softly. “I imagine he is. I see you are doing a good job eating your French toast.”
“French toast is my favorite,” Mackenzie told Terri, her chubby face turning serious. “My uncle Tanner makes the best French toast in the whole, wide world.”
Terri flashed a glance at Tanner and smiled. “My. That’s some praise, coming from a three-year-old.”
“Mackenzie, would you like to go help me feed the goats?” Peggy asked enticingly.
The little girl looked from Peggy to Terri and then back again. It was a tough decision—a stranger visiting at the house was a rarity and her curiosity was clearly tripped.
But then again—goats.
Thankfully, in the end, the goats won and Mackenzie left without complaining, leaving Tanner and Rebecca to converse with Terri.
“It looks like things are going very well here with Mackenzie,” Terri said as soon as they were alone.
“As well as can be expected under the circumstances,” Tanner answered honestly. “She still occasionally has her moments when she has bad dreams and calls out for her mommy in the middle of the night.”
Terri nodded. “Unfortunately, that’s to be expected. It’s heartbreaking, I know.”
“Rebecca has a special touch,” he said. “She always manages to rock Mackenzie back to sleep within minutes, whereas when I didn’t have her help, it always took me much longer than that.”
Terri eyed Rebecca for a moment and then put out her hand. “I’m Terri Goodwin, Mackenzie’s social worker.”
“I figured,” Rebecca said. “As Tanner mentioned, I’m Rebecca. Tanner’s wife.”
“Wife?” Terri asked, her confused glance resting on Tanner. “But I thought—”
“It’s complicated,” he answered.
“We’ve reconciled,” Rebecca said, totally stunning Tanner, who suddenly felt as if he’d just been run over by a rabid moose. This was news to him. I mean, he’d hoped, but...
“Mackenzie has a nice, stable home here,” Rebecca assured Terri.
Tanner’s head was spinning and he tried to suck in a breath, but it was a no-go. He raised a silent prayer thanking God for Rebecca, who was putting all of her own questions and worries aside for Mackenzie’s sake.
And she wasn’t wrong about their household. Things with Mackenzie had much improved since Rebecca’s arrival. Rebecca had a mother’s heart and seemed to know just what Mackenzie needed, often before the little girl did.
Best of all, Tanner didn’t feel quite so alone in raising Mackenzie. Of course, Peggy had been there for him since Day One, even going so far as to move here to the ranch with him, and he was so, so grateful for all she had done, but their lives since Rebecca had arrived were a whole other thing entirely.
Rebecca had brought back the sunshine.
Terri studied her notes, looking as if she was trying to figure out a tactful way of asking her next question. “You weren’t—uh—here before.”
Tanner cringed. The last thing he wanted to do was get into the multifaceted complications of their relationship. Even worse, he worried what might happen if and when Terri learned of Rebecca’s amnesia. What if Terri thought Rebecca might be a danger to Mackenzie because of her condition? Tanner was 100 percent positive she wasn’t, but how would he convince Terri of that?
Would Tanner be presented with the impossible choice of keeping Mackenzie or losing Rebecca?
Rebecca didn’t wait for Tanner to answer. She caught Terri’s gaze and held it tightly as Tanner looked on breathlessly.
“I’m here now.”
Only three little words, but spoken with so much strength and confidence that Tanner wanted to stand and applaud her. He was shaking inside and just short of trembling on the outside, but Rebecca was as cool as a cucumber.
“While the circumstances are far from ideal for Tanner’s poor sister,” Rebecca continued, her voice unwavering, “Mackenzie has brought great joy into our lives. We’ve been blessed to have had the time to get to know her better.” Rebecca smiled widely and pressed a hand to her belly. “And she’s been great practice for when our son comes along.”
Terri’s gaze dropped to Rebecca’s stomach. “I didn’t realize. I guess congratulations are in order.”
Tanner was sure Terri was wondering why he hadn’t mentioned such a monumental piece of information, but he wasn’t going to enlighten her. Saying he hadn’t known his wife was pregnant would be opening Pandora’s box and there would be no way to shut it again.
“Thank you,” Rebecca answered for both of them, her voice calm and steady. “Needless to say, Tanner and I are thrilled to be expecting our first.”
Tanner cringed, but he was the only one in the room who knew that statement wasn’t quite accurate.
“Will this baby interfere with your guardianship of Mackenzie?” Terri asked bluntly. “I don’t mean to sound insensitive, but some families don’t care to have guardianship of other children once they have their own. I would rather just ask the question up front.”
“No,” Tanner barked, then took a breath when he realized how harsh he sounded. “I guess you have your reasons for asking, but Mackenzie is a member of this family, every bit as much as our son. She’ll stay with us until my sister is well enough and strong enough to be a mother on her own.”
He realized he was making his sister sound as if she was ill and not in jail, but in Tanner’s mind, that’s how he thought of her. If it hadn’t been for their upbringing, his sister would not be in this position now. She wouldn’t have started doing drugs, much less dealing them.
“Actually, Lydia is the main reason I’m here today,” Terri said.
Tanner’s stomach turned to lead and he thought he might be physically sick. He took a series of quick breaths to get oxygen flowing into his system. What had his sister done now? And how much worse was this going to get?
“What about Lydia?” he asked through a tense jaw. “Has she...done something to get into more trouble?”
Terri’s gaze widened in surprise. “Oh, no, it’s nothing like that. Quite the opposite, actually. Lydia has been a model prisoner. She’s even completed an accelerated associate’s degree while behind bars.”
“A college degree?” Tanner repeated, stunned.
Terri smiled and nodded. “In business administration. She really applied herself. You should be very proud of her.”
“I—I am,” Tanner stammered. “Stunned. But proud.”
His sister studying for a degree? He couldn’t even begin to imagine her having the patience and persistence needed to crack a book, much less study for a degree. Who would have thought jail might turn out to be the best thing that ever happened to her?
She’d never even menti
oned her studies to him during the few times they’d spoken over the phone during the previous months. Lydia always kept the calls short and sweet—wanting to know how Mackenzie was doing, but only in general terms. If he started to tell her a story about what Mackenzie had done that day, Lydia would immediately cut him off and end the call. And she never talked about herself.
He supposed he understood. It was just too hard for her.
“Lydia is coming up in front of the parole board next Monday,” Terri informed them.
“What?” Again, Tanner was stunned. Why hadn’t Lydia called and told him what was going on? “I hadn’t heard.”
“No,” Terri said. “Lydia said she hadn’t spoken with you. I guess she thought it would be easier coming from me.”
“She’ll be out of jail, then?” Rebecca asked. She met Tanner’s gaze across the table and gave him a slight nod. “She can, of course, come live here at the ranch until she can find a job and a place of her own.”
Tanner’s shoulders tensed so tightly he couldn’t turn his neck. As kind as it was for Rebecca to make such an offer, he really didn’t want his sister living here. That probably made him the worst brother ever, but so be it. He had his hands and heart full of responsibilities as it was.
Lydia living at the ranch would cause added stress on Rebecca that she just didn’t need right now, especially not as close as she was to giving birth to their son. Tanner refused to put her in that position, even if her kind heart instinctively reached out to those in need—maybe especially because it did.
And having Lydia around Mackenzie would be nothing short of a complete disaster, unless she really had changed as much as Terri seemed to think she had.
That remained to be seen. There must be some better way to do this.
But Rebecca had put them in a real bind by speaking up as she had. How was he going to delicately rescind the offer without coming off as the biggest jerk and worst brother in the world?
Thankfully, Terri spoke first.
“I’m sure Lydia would appreciate the offer,” said Terri. “But that won’t be necessary. If the parole board agrees to her release, she’ll be mandated to a monitored halfway house. She’ll live with several other women who are trying to get their lives together after jail. It’s a new program Texas is trying. She’ll have houseparents and will have strict rules as to what she can and can’t do and where she can and can’t go. She’ll be responsible to get and keep a job—with help, of course. We have specific placement for these women, businesses that know what we are about and are willing to give these ladies a second chance. But it’s a very strict environment. If they come back to the house drunk or high even once, they will return to jail. This is their second chance. They won’t get a third.”
That, Tanner thought, might be where Lydia would fail. Would she have the willpower to stay away from drugs?
Then again, it sounded like she’d made a lot of changes while she was in jail. Maybe—hopefully—she was a new woman. Perhaps even someone who could take back her parenting rights and give Mackenzie the mother’s love she so desperately needed.
Oh, how he wanted to believe that. He prayed every day for Lydia.
But Tanner knew his sister better than anyone. And sad to say, he wasn’t holding his breath.
“What will happen with Mackenzie?” Tanner asked. He was ashamed at the relief he felt that he wouldn’t be directly responsible for his sister. He’d been responsible for her ever since they were both kids. Now he had a family of his own to worry about.
“Mackenzie is the other reason I’m here. We would like you to continue being her full-time guardian until such time as your sister is released into the general public.”
“No question,” Tanner assured her. “As I said earlier, Mackenzie is family.”
“Excellent.” Terri wrote something in her notes that Tanner couldn’t quite make out.
“There is one other thing,” Terri continued. “Lydia may be granted supervised visitation rights, if everything goes well.”
Tanner’s heart warmed. He knew how much his sister longed to see Mackenzie, even if they never talked about it.
“What is that going to look like?” Rebecca asked. “Will we be taking Mackenzie to see Lydia, or the other way around? Will we be in charge of supervising the visits?”
“Oh, no, that’s the social worker’s responsibility—namely, me. I will pick up Lydia from the halfway house and bring her here to the ranch, if that’s okay with you. Either you or Tanner, or both of you, are welcome to remain in the room with Mackenzie and Lydia as they interact. If you could provide a box of toys for them to play with, that will make it easier on Lydia, who will no doubt feel awkward and uncomfortable at first. Having toys which are familiar to Mackenzie will in turn help Mackenzie feel more at ease with her mother.”
“We’ll do everything we can to make this successful,” Rebecca assured her.
Terri beamed at Rebecca. “I know you will. I have a good feeling about the two of you. If anyone can help Lydia in this situation, it’s you two.”
She stood and gathered her things and Tanner walked her to the door.
“I’ll be in touch as soon as the parole board has made their decision,” Terri said.
“We’ll be waiting,” Tanner replied, his gut as hard as a rock.
He knew he was being selfish, but why did this have to happen now, when there was already so much stress in their lives?
Just once, couldn’t they catch a break?
* * *
“Talk to me.” Rebecca folded her hands on the table and caught Tanner’s eye. He was visibly upset, from his trembling hands to the pulse beating at the corner of his tight jaw. “What are you thinking right now?”
He groaned and slumped back in his chair. “You don’t want to know.”
“Surprise me.”
He scoffed. “You’ll be surprised, all right—or maybe not so much. I have to be the most self-centered, callous man on this planet.”
She smiled softly. “Well, I know that’s not true.”
And she did. Amnesia or no amnesia, she knew the kind of man Tanner Hamilton was, and he wasn’t selfish or callous. He was the sweetest, most generous man she’d ever known, although she was fairly certain her tough, rugged cowboy would balk if she said those words out loud, so she swallowed them back.
He gave everything for his family. When the necessity arose, he’d become Mackenzie’s guardian without blinking an eye—something Rebecca doubted most men in his position would have done. He’d taken Rebecca in—even to the point of letting her live on the ranch with him—when she’d needed him the most, even though she’d been the one to leave him. He had to have been carrying anger and resentment for her, and yet he hadn’t let his own feelings get in the way of doing what was right.
“So tell me what’s bothering you,” she urged. “Maybe I can help.”
He reached across the table and took her hand. “You already help, just by being here. More than you know. Your presence gives me courage. It’s just—I’m not sure Lydia is going to be ready for the outside world.”
“Isn’t that for the parole board to decide?”
He nodded. “But the parole board doesn’t know Lydia like I do. She might have put on an act for them in jail, but I’m afraid the first thing she’ll do when she gets out is find a way to score some heroin. She’s brilliant when it comes to finding drugs. She may have detoxed in jail, but I’m still not convinced that won’t be the first thing on her mind. Is that an awful thing for a brother to say?” He was clearly racked with guilt, and Rebecca wished she knew a way to take some of the burden off his shoulders.
“Terri made it sound like she’s really turned her life around, taking advantage of everything jail had to offer. She got a college degree. Maybe she really has learned from her mistakes.”
“Maybe.” Tanner
ran a hand across his stubbled jaw. “This is going to sound terrible, but I was relieved when Lydia got arrested and went to jail. It was hard on Mackenzie, of course, but not as hard as it would have been to grow up with a mother whose only concern was when and where she was going to get her next fix. Trust me. I should know.”
“I’m so sorry,” Rebecca said, squeezing his hand, and he realized she wouldn’t remember what she’d once known about his past. She would have no idea that Tanner and Lydia had grown up with a mother who was an addict.
“Lydia and I are actually half brother and sister. My mom was never very responsible with her life. I don’t know who my father is. She never made any attempt to find him. Then Lydia came along three years later. Same song, different verse. Mom rarely spent more than a week or two with any man. Looking back on it, I’m guessing her relationships had more to do with finding her next hit than being in any kind of romance.
“I learned at a very young age that Mom wasn’t fit to raise us. I learned a lot of other things sooner than I should have, as well—like how to use my mom’s food stamp card to buy real groceries and not just junk food. She couldn’t buy drugs with the card so it didn’t mean much to her. Thankfully, Mom didn’t care enough to do the shopping herself, so I was able to put food on the table, even when I was in late elementary school. The grocer down the street from us where I shopped knew of our circumstances and looked the other way when I bought food with the card. I’m pretty sure he wasn’t supposed to do that, but he literally saved our lives with his kindness.”
“I can’t even imagine,” Rebecca said, releasing a long, heavy breath. The truth was, she was imagining the scene in great detail, and it was breaking her heart. A young boy trying to take care of his little sister while his mother sat in the living room watching TV, high as a kite. A kid pushing a grocery cart that was bigger than he was, trying to decide what food would be the most healthy and nutritious for him and his sister and that wouldn’t be too hard for him to cook.
“I went door to door at neighboring ranches asking to do chores for money. It never seemed to be enough, but at least social services never got involved.”
