Peyton scooted her chair closer to her daughter and sat.
“Sweetheart, while you were away…something, or rather someone, happened.”
Mel’s hand froze above the plate. She swallowed a few times before pulling her hand back and joining it with the other. “Was someone hurt?” she asked, staring at the plaid pattern on the tablecloth.
“No, honey. No one was hurt.” Not physically. Peyton downed her glass of milk and placed the tumbler back on the table, her fingers wrapped tight around it. What could she say? She’d thought about how she should approach this for a week. Yet now faced with a clearly intuitive daughter, Peyton couldn’t find the words.
“Grandma says blunt is best sometimes.”
Blunt it is. “Your dad has come home to Sky Lake.”
Large brown eyes widened and filled with so much hope that Peyton choked on a sob.
“My father?”
All Peyton could do was nod.
“Does he want…” Mel fiddled with the edge of the tablecloth.
Guilt needled Peyton. She tugged at the collar of her shirt, her throat so thick she couldn’t swallow. She’d missed the clues over the years that Mel wanted or needed to talk about her dad. She’d been so caught up in protecting herself she’d hurt her daughter.
Well, that ended today.
Peyton would never miss another clue from her daughter and she’d make damn sure Ryder told Mel how much he cared for her. Even if she had to force-feed the words into his brain.
I won’t have to do that. He already loves her.
Gently, Peyton cupped Mel’s porcelain cheeks. “He’s spoke of very little but you since he returned home. In fact, if you’re ready, he’s waiting at Grandma and Pappy’s right now to see you.”
Mel lurched out of her hold and practically tumbled backward off the chair. She straightened herself and jigged from one foot to the other. “Well, let’s go. Let’s go see my dad.”
…
Ryder paced the porch. It was that or drive to the entrance of the ranch and block it waiting for Peyton and Melanie. She’d said four o’clock. It was ten past. Was she backing out? Did she take Melanie somewhere? He took his hat off and ran his fingers through his hair. No. Peyton wouldn’t do that. She would bring their daughter here for him to meet just as she said. Only…what was Melanie thinking? Was she upset? Did she not want to meet him? Was that why they were late?
Anger wormed its way into his veins. Damn his father. Ryder blamed him for all of this. For missing ten years of his daughter’s life. For leaving him so damn insecure that his own daughter might not want to meet him. For having ten years with the girl when he didn’t. For having memories of her first Christmas, her first word, her first pony ride.
Ryder kicked the porch. Damn it, he should have been the one to teach her to ride. What the hell was left?
The crunch of gravel sent him leaping over the railing, his boots landing hard on the grass. He smoothed his hands down his jeans and adjusted his hat and walked over to the driveway just as Peyton pulled her Subaru to a stop.
He froze.
What should he do? Go to her? Let her come to him?
Peyton hopped out and smiled but uneasiness spilled from her green eyes. “Ryder.”
He glanced at her, but his gaze darted to the back door opening. Two purple cowboy boots slid to the ground as a small hand reached around the side of the door. A moment later black curls came into focus as Melanie stepped away from the door and slammed it shut. She turned and met his gaze.
If it was possible to be pierced in the heart with love, that moment was proof. He’d loved her the minute he knew of her existence but until he’d seen her living and breathing, that love had been elusive. Now it was a physical manifestation.
His throat closed up and he cleared it several times but still no words came.
Peyton took Melanie’s hand and walked toward him. “Ryder, this is your daughter. Melanie.”
He took a step toward her and froze again. She was so small, so breakable. How could he protect something so valuable?
She smiled. “You can hug me if you want.”
And the damn of insecurities broke. He dropped to his knees and opened his arms and Melanie walked right into them. His daughter. Here, hugging him. Not afraid. Not running away. Smiling and openly inviting his love. He glanced up at Peyton to see her wiping tears off her cheeks.
And in that moment he knew he would celebrate every milestone for the rest of her life no matter how small. He may have missed ten years but he had at least fifty more to go. She would know she was loved every minute of every day by him. He would make up those lost years starting right now, and she would never know how much pain and regret resided in his heart toward himself and her grandfather. Melanie would only know the good of life. The good of her father.
He released her. “I’m so happy to meet you. I’m sure your mother’s talked to you, but I want you to know if I’d known…”
“Mom says you were in Alaska.”
Ryder nodded. Straightening, he offered his hand and Melanie placed her small, pale one inside. Together they walked up on the porch and settled in two rockers. Peyton, he noticed, went inside, leaving them alone. He was both grateful and terrified. Melanie seemed okay at that moment. So well-adjusted for a kid who’d come face-to-face with a missing father. But she was a kid and a female to boot. That surely meant ever-changing emotions and moods.
Melanie curled her legs under her and the rocker tipped forward. Ryder’s hand shot out and steadied it as his daughter giggled.
“I’m fine. I won’t fall. I have a great sense of balance. At least according to Pappy.”
A knife sliced through his heart. His father shouldn’t be the one telling his daughter what she did or didn’t have. How dare he take his place. Something must have shown on his face because a small hand landed on top of his.
“What’s wrong?”
Ryder smiled. It was brittle and fake and Peyton would have called him out on it had she been there. But Melanie didn’t know him. She would. But not yet.
“I’m good. Why don’t you tell me about camp.”
Melanie began a litany of stories and observations. Her voice, the cadence and speech so similar to her mother’s that if Ryder had closed his eyes he wouldn’t have known he was speaking to a ten-year-old. Was he destined to have nothing of him a part of her? Would time help or was ten years too much to overcome?
“And I found a moose rack! It’s old and slightly eaten, but I found it, and I’m going to ask Pappy to seal it and mount it for me.”
Ryder swallowed hard. “You know. I could do that for you. I mean…that is, if you want.”
Melanie bounced in the rocker, sending it tipping again. “That would be great. I bet you saw lots of moose in Alaska. I love moose. I’ve only seen one once. It was drinking at the lake. Did you see lots?”
“Some. Not as many as you would think. We loggers make an awful lot of noise.”
“I bet you can climb a tree really high.”
Ryder nodded, basking in the sparkle in his daughter’s eyes.
“I love to climb trees. I bet that’s where I get it from. You.”
And just like that. Ryder couldn’t speak. He couldn’t move. His eyes grew blurry and a tightness spread across his chest.
The screen door slammed, and Ryder and Melanie turned to see Peyton carrying two glasses. A breath eased between his lips and he was grateful for her timing. Melanie didn’t need to see how emotional her father could become over a simple statement.
“Apple cider?”
Ryder reached for the glass and smiled. Peyton’s gaze lingered on him and when he finally conceded to meet it, she arched an eyebrow. He shrugged and took a sip, grateful for both the cool liquid and the content-to-not-dig woman standing in front of him.
“Guess what, Mom? Dad’s going to do my moose antlers.”
“That’s great, sweetie. And nice of him to offer.”
Ryder�
�s heart exploded. Silly that three little letters could bring forth so much joy.
Dad.
“Hey, Mel. Why don’t you run in and see how much time’s left on the oven?”
Mel hopped off the rocker and shot through the front door.
“Does she do anything in slow motion?”
Peyton laughed and took the vacated rocker. “No. She’s fidgety. Like you.”
Ryder snorted. “I’m not sure there’s anything about her that’s like me.”
Peyton placed her hand over his. “Hey. A fifteen-minute conversation doesn’t erase ten years. She likes you. I mean, she’s trusting you with her moose rack. Doesn’t get any more trustworthy than that.”
Ryder reversed the position of their hands. “Thank you.” He motioned around. “For this. I know I didn’t exactly couch it in a polite invitation at the time, and I know it must not be easy for you.”
Peyton looked down at their hands. “It’s not easy for anyone. Mel’s probably the most well-adjusted of any of us.” She tugged on his hand and he looked back at her. “I ran into your father storming out of the lodge. I think it’s hard all around.”
Ryder pulled away. “Nothing is hard for Mitchum Marks.”
…
Ryder completely shut down. The hope and excitement from a few seconds before washed away at the mention of his father. Peyton had heard Shelby pleading with Mitch before he walked out and made a mental note to track her down later and find out just how deep this Ryder-Mitchum issue went and how much she knew. Right now, her focus needed to be on Melanie and making sure her daughter was doing okay.
“I’m sorry for bringing him up. I didn’t realize…” What, how deep this issue went? Subconsciously she had. No one left their home and stayed away with little contact if they didn’t feel they had a valid reason, and yet seeing the hatred in his reaction brought home how much damage existed between father and son. “I’m going to check on Mel. Are you staying?”
Ryder nodded, his gaze focused on the strand of aspen trees lining the left side of the porch.
Peyton took one last look, noting the tightness of his lips and the rigidity in his arms as he gripped the edge of the rocker. He was holding on for all its worth, and she didn’t want to see the eruption. Or have Mel witness it.
She left Ryder to his demons and went to find their daughter. She’d always thought of Mel in that respect even if Ryder hadn’t been a part of their lives. In some small way, the part that didn’t resent him for leaving her high and dry, she’d relished that she had a piece of him in this world. That Shelby and Mitch could still have a part of their son around. She’d loved him. And that love lingered on in Melanie. Whatever else happened, their daughter was created in love.
“Hey, hon, whatcha doing?”
Melanie swung around, icing on her finger. Her eyes widened, and she glanced to the arch leading to the hallway and back.
“I was icing Dad’s cookie.”
Peyton crossed her arms and leaned against the doorway. “With your finger?”
“Personal touch?”
“Big fat lie?”
Melanie dropped her head and nodded.
“Wash your finger and the drop on your face off. There’s a rule about sugar and you know it.”
Melanie looked up and smiled. “Do you think Dad has the same rule?”
Peyton cut the surge of annoyance off at the pass. Clearly she and Ryder would have to chat about the rules in their daughter’s life. They weren’t there just for the sake of it. Hopefully Ryder saw things her way, and if he didn’t, well, she would deal with it when the time came. One problem and upheaval at a time. As for Melanie, Peyton hadn’t foreseen any problems with her daughter and the arrival of her missing father. But apparently her too-smart-for-her-own-good child was ready to play them against one another.
“I don’t know what your father’s take on sugar is, but in this house and your life, my rules are the ones that matter. Capiche?”
Melanie’s shoulders dropped, and she cleaned herself up. Peyton grabbed a plate from the cabinet and loaded it up with cookies, including the few Melanie had managed to ice. She arranged them in rows and was reaching for a few napkins when Melanie asked, “Do you think he likes me?”
Peyton would have laughed if the moment wasn’t so serious. Hadn’t she just had a similar conversation two minutes before? They might not recognize it yet, but both daughter and father were more similar than she wanted to admit. Over the years, she’d always forced the parts of Melanie that screamed Ryder out of the way. They brought back emotions she didn’t want to—or more specifically know how to—deal with.
“I think he loves you. No, I know he does.” She placed her hand on Melanie’s shoulder and turned her. “Sweetheart, your dad’s a wonderful person. The circumstances that kept him away had nothing to do with you.”
Melanie looked thoughtful and finally nodded. Her brown eyes, identical to the man brooding on the porch, blinked up at her and in a blatant manipulative expression asked, “Does Dad love you?”
Well, thank God she hadn’t asked it the other way around. “I’m sure your dad cares for me as the mother of his daughter. I mean, I would hope he would share a cookie or two with me.”
Melanie giggled and thankfully accepted Peyton’s answer. Together they went out on the porch. Ryder stood in the middle of the yard looking up at his parent’s house. He smiled at them and came back up to the porch, settling into the rocker next to Melanie. Peyton leaned against the railing and nibbled on a cookie.
“I iced those for you,” Melanie said, handing two to Ryder.
He accepted them with a huge smile. “Nice job. I especially like your icing to cookie ratio.”
He bit into one and groaned. “Is this Mom’s gingersnap recipe?”
Peyton nodded.
“And she shared it with you?”
Peyton wasn’t surprised at Ryder’s question. Shelby Marks held her recipes so close to her heart that even Mitchum wasn’t allowed access. But the gingersnaps had been Ryder’s favorite, and Shelby had come to her one day and presented a small index card to her, claiming Melanie wanted her mom to bake some for her. Peyton had always wondered if it was a way for Shelby to link her granddaughter and son through her baking.
The three of them sat comfortably, chewing and smacking lips. No lingering concerns over Ryder and Melanie and how they might progress going forward. It was a relief to Peyton in many ways and also a source of stress. What if Ryder didn’t hang around? What did he expect of Melanie and of her? Was he a welcomed addition to their blessed life or would he tilt it upside down, only to leave her once again to pick up the pieces?
Tucking a piece of hair behind her ears, she figured the only way to get answers was to ask the questions. Ryder may not have shared his problems or concerns with her ten years ago, but he would this time. Because while she knew she could pick up the pieces again, she would be damned if she put her daughter through the same trouble.
Chapter Eleven
“Sorry about the delay. Got sidetracked in Cheyenne with a few things.”
Ryder smiled as his partner, Alex Plank, shoveled two peach cookies into his mouth at once. Alex had arrived yesterday evening, along with Vista, Ryder’s dog, and he’d promptly charmed every woman who’d been at the Wooden Nickel last night. Ryder had walked in after saying good night to Mel, and his redheaded, dimple-sporting partner had been front and center in a line dance being taught by Lily Ann. He’d settled on a stool, ordered a beer, and laughed the remainder of the evening away as Alex swanned among the female guests and left each starry-eyed and smiling. The man had better be careful or there would be several fathers hunting down his ginger head.
“Everything set for the meeting?”
Alex downed a half a glass of lemonade and nodded. Serious green eyes met his. “Are you ready?”
Ryder arched a brow and snorted. “Never more for anything in my life.”
He was beyond ready. To take the l
ast ten years and prove his worth and hard work had amounted to something. To look his father in the eye and say “I own part of Sky Lake.” Pride flushed his veins and he stood straighter. His life and future were on track. Things with Mel were going so well, and time spent with Peyton was more often relaxing than not, and there were moments he thought about exploring a more permanent something between them. She still showed signs of concern and distrust but those didn’t go away over a week or even a month.
“No surprises?”
Ryder looked back at Alex, something in his partner’s serious tone raising the hairs on the back of his neck. “Such as what?”
Alex didn’t get to answer as Mel bounced in from nowhere. “Hi, Dad.” His daughter, all exuberance and feigned innocence, snagged a cookie off the plate and smiled.
Alex’s eyes reached the top of the lodge ceiling. He cocked his head as he mouthed the word daughter.
“Hey, hon. Whatcha up to?”
Mel swallowed and gestured behind her. “I was out with Pappy and the foals.”
Ryder stiffened and turned to see his father shooting daggers at his back. He stood and took Mel by the hand. “Hey, hon. This is my good friend Alex. He’s visiting Sky Lake for a bit. Why don’t you take him to Laney in the kitchen and have her introduce him to our famous apple tarts.” He ruffled her head. “I’ll come find you in a couple minutes.”
Mel’s eyes bounced between the two men and her grandfather and read the situation accurately. She grabbed Alex’s hand and tugged him toward the dining area. Ryder’s smile was short-lived as he turned and faced the impending doom that was an always-disappointed Mitchum Marks.
“Must be nice to sit around and do nothing.”
Ryder folded his arms across his chest and waited.
“Then again, I shouldn’t be surprised. You didn’t do anything ten years ago but dream of ideas and never implement them.”
Heat flushed his face. Ryder had presented those ideas to his dad as a means to help and his father had thrown them back, declaring them lazy and not the way things were done. He could tell his father. Tell him all the ways he was wrong, but Mitchum wouldn’t listen. He hadn’t listened all those years ago, and he certainly wouldn’t now. If he told his father he owned part of the ranch, Mitchum would deny it. He’d likely make a scene and not show up to the meeting that was scheduled. No, Ryder would let this play out on the time frame he set up. And it would play out in private.
The Cowboy's Homecoming Surprise Page 10