A Future to Fight For

by Mindy Obenhaus

  “He’s running a slight fever,” the sitter said.

  “My head and my tummy don’t feel so good either,” his boy added.

  “When did it start?” Crockett eyed Ashley.

  “Just in the last hour or so. That’s why I didn’t call. I knew you’d be home soon.”

  “No, you’re fine.” He crouched beside his boy. “I’m sorry you’re not feeling well.” For more than one reason. He couldn’t leave his son, but it meant he was going to have to disappoint Paisley.

  “Will you sit with me?”

  “I sure will. Just give me a minute.” Standing, he turned to face Ashley. “Would you mind staying with him while I make a phone call? I won’t be long.”

  “No problem.”

  Returning to the front porch, he checked his watch before dialing. It was already five. Paisley probably had most of the meal going already.

  She picked up on the third ring, “Hello.”

  “Paisley.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m afraid I have some bad news.”

  “Is something wrong?”

  “Yeah. I just got home.” He saw Mac emerge from the horse barn. Spotting him, she waved. “David’s sick, so it looks like we’re not going to be able to make it for dinner.” He waved to his daughter.

  “Poor guy. I’m so sorry to hear that.” Noises in the background told him she was in the middle of preparing dinner, a dinner he’d give anything to be there for. “Any idea what’s wrong?”

  “Sitter says he has a low-grade fever. He says he feels bad.”

  “Sounds like he picked up a bug somewhere. At least, I hope that’s all it is.”

  “Paisley, I’m really sorry to back out on you like this.”

  “Crockett, your kids come first. I understand that. I just hate that David is sick. Give him a hug for me and tell him I said to get well soon.” The woman had a heart as big as the Grand Canyon.

  “I’ll do that.”

  Ending the call, he stared out over the pasture, feeling kinda sick himself. Though it had been short-lived, he’d been really looking forward to seeing Paisley tonight. He’d wanted to ride in there and play the hero, saving her from whatever was bothering her. Instead, he’d disappointed her.

  You’re no hero.

  He hung his head. No, he wasn’t. Not by a long shot. And he’d never be worthy of a woman like Paisley.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Paisley could finally breathe again. Her parents had pulled away in their RV a little after eight Friday morning with a promise to support her as she eased back into the wedding business in Bliss and to stop thinking of her as perpetually in mourning. Actually, their dinner last night had gone quite well, despite it being just the three of them. Perhaps they’d finally realized that she was stronger than they believed her to be.

  Of course, as soon as they were gone, her thoughts turned to David. He was such a happy-go-lucky boy. Just the notion of him being sick made her sad, so she’d given Crockett a call to see how he was doing. He was better, but Crockett had decided to stay home with him today. That didn’t mean he wasn’t in demand, though. He’d had to cut their call short to take another from the office.

  It wasn’t until after she hung up that she decided to make a batch of chicken soup along with some molasses cookies. Because even though Crockett wasn’t able to make it last night, he’d still been willing.

  Pulling into Crockett’s drive just before noon, she tried to convince herself that she was simply providing some nourishment for a sick little boy and that the decision to make the soup and cookies had nothing to do with wanting to spend time with Crockett. Yet no matter how many times she tried, she failed. She and Crockett had, indeed, become friends, but all too often lately she found herself wondering if they could be more. Not only did she wonder, sometimes she hoped.

  Somewhere along the way, she’d stopped thinking of Crockett as the enemy and started entertaining a plethora of what-ifs. He wasn’t the heartless person she’d once imagined him to be. He was kind, caring, an adoring father... And they’d worked so well together on Samantha’s wedding. Where one was weak, the other was strong.

  But he doesn’t want another relationship. He has trust issues.

  Then why had he almost kissed her?

  You don’t know that. And you cannot hang your hat on a man who’s been wounded by love.

  Blowing out an annoyed breath, she parked her SUV, gathered up the food and knocked on the door.

  Moments later, it opened, and Crockett stood on the other side looking more handsome than a man had a right to in jeans and a gray Devereaux Sand and Gravel T-shirt.

  “I wasn’t expecting to see you.” He shifted from one bare foot to the other, looking rather unhappy. As though he didn’t want her there.

  Now she wished she’d told him she was coming. “I, uh, I made some chicken soup for David. There’s enough for everyone, of course.” Lifting her chin a notch, she added, “And there are some molasses cookies, too.”

  His narrowed gaze slammed into hers. “You shouldn’t have done that.” His voice was harsh, and he had a scowl to match.

  While she had no idea why he was upset, she refused to react in kind. She squared her shoulders. “I told you I would make you cookies. It wasn’t your fault you weren’t able to come by last night. Consider it your reward for being willing.”

  He stared at her for a long moment, his jaw pulsating. Was he contemplating sending her away, cookies and all?

  Finally, his shoulders became less rigid, and the hard lines on his face eased as he took the containers from her. “Thank you. Come on in.”

  David was on the sofa in the living room, watching a cartoon. His face lit up when he saw her, erasing any remorse she had following his father’s less-than-welcome reception.

  “Hey there, darlin’.” She crossed to kneel beside him. “How are you feeling?”

  Head propped on a pillow, he said, “Dad says my fever’s gone, but I still feel kinda yucky.”

  She stroked the hair from his brow. “Yucky is never fun, is it?”

  “I feel better now that you’re here.”

  “I’m happy to see you, too.” Smiling, she patted his arm. “I brought you some soup.”

  “Thanks. If you made it, I know it’s going to be good.”

  “You are such a sweetie.” More than she could say for his father at that moment. Why was he acting like the old Crockett? The one who couldn’t stand to be in the same room with her.

  She pushed to her feet, eyeing him in the kitchen. “Where’s Mackenzie?”

  “Working.” Crockett looked everywhere but at her.

  Continuing toward the island, Paisley said, “I had promised her a trip to the city for some shopping. I thought next Saturday might be a good time for that, if it’s all right with you.”

  “How long will you be gone?” He loaded a coffee mug and a glass into the dishwasher without ever looking her way.

  “Most of the day, I’m sure.”

  He concentrated on loading a couple of bowls and spoons, seemingly mulling over his decision. “She’s been looking forward to that trip ever since you first mentioned it. We’ve got nothing planned, so yeah, I guess that’ll be all right.”

  Paisley couldn’t help smiling. “Thank you. I promise to keep her safe and sound.”

  He nodded but still didn’t look at her as he closed the door on the dishwasher. What was up with him today? Perhaps something had happened with his father.

  “How is your father doing?”

  “He’s fine.”

  Why were his answers so clipped? Just the facts, ma’am, as though he were merely enduring their conversation.

  “Is something wrong, Crockett?” Perhaps she should leave. He obviously didn’t want her around. A thought that, surprisingly, made her sad.

  A
racket sounded from the laundry/mudroom off of the kitchen, drawing their attention. A second later, Mackenzie appeared, wearing a dust-covered blue tank top over faded jeans, her sock feet evidence that she’d removed her boots in the mudroom.

  Her smile was instantaneous when she spotted Paisley. She continued toward her. “What are you doing here?”

  Paisley slipped an arm around her shoulders for a sideways hug. The girl smelled of horse and bubble gum. “Checking on your brother.”

  “She brought soup and cookies, too,” David hollered from the sofa. And here Paisley thought he was engrossed in his television show.

  “What kind?” Mackenzie’s eyes widened.

  “Chicken soup, because of its healing properties, and molasses cookies, just because.” She glanced toward the kitchen to see Crockett watching them, his expression pensive.

  The ringtone on his phone sounded. He eyed the device on the counter before picking it up. “Yeah.” His brow puckered as he moved from the kitchen into the front room that he used for an office.

  Paisley watched him go, wishing she knew what had gotten into him.

  Returning her attention to Mackenzie, she pulled a piece of hay from the girl’s ponytail. “Your father and I have been talking. What would you think about making that run into the city with me a week from tomorrow?”

  The girl let out a high-pitched squeal and began bouncing around. “Yes! Yes! Yes!”

  Crockett poked his head around the corner. “Mac! Please, I’m on the phone.”

  His daughter smiled sheepishly. “We are going to have so much fun,” she whispered. “I really want to find some new sandals and, maybe, a sundress for church.”

  “Well, we’ll have all day to look.”

  “I need to hurry up and eat lunch then, so I can get back out to the barn and earn some more money.”

  Paisley couldn’t help laughing. “A little motivation never hurts.”

  “Can I have some soup?”

  “Sure, I brought plenty. It’s in that pot over there on the stove.” She pointed.

  While Mackenzie helped herself, Paisley went to check on David. “Do you feel up to eating a little something, or would you prefer to wait?”

  His blue eyes met hers. “Can I have just a little bit?”

  “You certainly may. I’ll be right back.”

  Paisley addressed Mackenzie as the girl settled in at the table. “Can you point me to the bowls?”

  “That cupboard right there.” She pointed to the right of the stove.

  “Thank you, darlin’.”

  Bowl in hand, she ladled the soup as Crockett returned, rubbing the back of his neck. A sure indication something was troubling him.

  “What’s wrong?”

  Shaking his head, he said, “I really hate to ask you this, but is there any chance you could watch the kids for me? I completely forgot that I’d scheduled an appointment with a project manager today. Now he’s at the plant and I’m not.”

  “Oh, that’s not good. Yes, of course I can watch them. How long do you think you’ll be?”

  “No idea. But it could be a while.”

  “No problem.” She set the ladle on the spoon rest beside the stove. “You go do what you need to do. The kids and I will be fine.”

  “You’re sure you don’t mind?”

  Replacing the lid, she said, “Not at all. What little is left to pack-up at the castle can wait.”

  He watched her for a long moment. “I’ll be back as soon as the meeting is over. Then you’ll be free to leave whenever you like.”

  “I’m not worried. Take as long as you need.”

  A tentative smile played at his lips. “Thank you.”

  She watched him pull out of the drive a few minutes later, still curious as to why he’d been so distant earlier when everything seemed fine when they’d talked yesterday. And why did that distance bother her so much?

  Unfortunately, she knew the answer to that question. Her feelings for Crockett were teetering between friendship and something more. And that scared her. She’d known love in its most precious form. Yet, in a flash, it was gone. Did she want to risk going through that again?

  Better to have loved and lost than to never have loved at all.

  Those words had rolled off her tongue so easily when she accused her friend Christa of being afraid to love for fear of losing. Back then, though, Paisley never imagined finding someone who would make her want to open her heart. Now she wasn’t sure what to do.

  She’d loved Peter and Logan with her whole heart, only to be crushed when they died. There were no certainties in life. She cared a great deal for Crockett, but allowing herself to love that way again? That was positively terrifying.

  * * *

  “Crockett, I apologize for takin’ you away from your boy.” Hank Remington with Glendale Homes stood from the chair opposite Crockett. The builder was in the development phase of a master planned community southwest of Houston and was looking at Devereaux Sand and Gravel to provide the base material for new streets.

  “No apologies necessary.” Standing, Crockett rounded his desk. “This is on me. I failed to notify you.”

  “I’m a firm believer that family comes first. And having a sick young’un is never convenient, so I’m glad we were able to work things out.”

  Thanks to Paisley. If she hadn’t been so gracious as to stay with Mac and David he didn’t know what he would have done. But he would have stood a good chance of losing Glendale’s business.

  Crockett reached for the door. “Thank you for understanding.”

  They continued into the main part of the building.

  Hank set his straw cowboy hat atop his head. “I’m going to get on out of here so you can check on your boy.”

  Crockett followed him out the door where the rumble of truck engines and heavy machinery had him raising his voice. “I’ll get those numbers worked up and have them to you by Tuesday.”

  The two shook hands and, as Hank departed, Crockett returned to the metal building that housed the offices.

  Pausing near his assistant’s desk, he said, “Any messages, Kelly?”

  The mother of three in her late thirties looked up at him. “No, sir. But then, it’s almost the end of the day. It’s a Friday and school’s out for summer, so a lot of people are probably knocking off early.”

  He checked his watch, surprised to see that it was four thirty. “I had no idea it was so late.”

  “Does that mean you had a good meeting?” Kelly smiled and pushed her keyboard aside.

  “I think so. We’ll know better after I send them my proposal. For now, though, I need to get on home to David.” Of course, Paisley would be there, too. And after the way Crockett behaved this morning, that might not be a good thing. He reached around the corner and turned off the light in his office before closing the door. “Enjoy your weekend, Kelly.”

  “You, too. I hope David feels better soon.”

  He pushed open the main door. “Me, too.”

  Outside, the late afternoon sun blazed overhead as he hurried to his truck amid the reverberations of the plant, kicking himself for being so cold to Paisley. She was just being her usual kind self, bringing food and checking on his son, not to mention offering to take his daughter shopping. Yet Crockett had rebuffed her at every turn. How was he going to face her again?

  Climbing into his truck, he thought back to Sunday night and how readily she’d offered to go with them to the hospital, despite the long drive and having been up late the night before. Paisley routinely gave of herself without expecting anything in return. He wasn’t used to that. Shannon took and took and took. Any giving on her part came only when it benefitted her. The two women couldn’t be more different. At least he wouldn’t have to worry about Paisley backing out on Mac.

  So why do you keep comparing
them?

  Because he was an idiot.

  He turned onto the county road and let go a sigh. It seemed that whenever he erected a new wall to keep Paisley away from his heart, she found a way to knock it down. Aside from his grandmother and Irene, he’d never encountered someone so selfless. Not only did it blow him away, it made it difficult to keep his feelings in check. Paisley made him want to let her in, but then the what-ifs would take over. What if she decided he wasn’t enough? Or that caring about him was a mistake? Or he wasn’t worth the effort?

  What if she said yes?

  “God, what am I doing?” His prayer filled the cab of his pickup. “Why am I so conflicted when it comes to Paisley?”

  I don’t know where I’d be without her.

  His father’s words replayed in his mind. Crockett had been surprised when he’d learned his dad was dating Irene. How had Dad managed to open himself up to love again after what Crockett’s mother had done to him, though? Then again, Dad had grown up with a loving mother who’d wanted him.

  Pulling up to his house twenty minutes later, he killed the engine and drew in a bolstering breath. Lord, help me. I don’t know what to think.

  After exiting his truck, he walked through the front door to a mixture of tantalizing aromas. Sweet mingled with spicy, awakening his appetite. Then he realized he’d never eaten lunch. And the granola bar he’d eaten on his way to the plant was long gone.

  Laughter met his ears as he moved into the living room, drawing his attention to the kitchen table where Paisley and his children sat playing a game of some sort. The scene had him stopping in his tracks, not to mention stealing his breath.

  This was the image that had lived in his mind since he was a little boy. The scene he’d always dreamed of coming home to but had always been out of his reach. The only difference was that in his mind the beautiful woman waiting had been his wife. He no longer had one of those. Even when he had, this never existed. Matter of fact, toward the end, it was a nanny he’d come home to while Shannon was off doing her own thing.

  “Hey, Dad.” Spotting him first, Mac waved before returning her focus to their game.