When Ryder appeared in his play clothes, Annie sent him out to the backyard, But she couldn’t forget the alarm in Sierra’s eyes earlier. Maybe the problem wasn’t external but internal. Could her frenzy have been a panic attack or another medical problem?
She set her hand on Sierra’s arm, stopping the frantic scrubbing. “Are you feeling all right, hon?”
Sierra waved her worry away, but her hand trembled. “Right as rain. Really.” Her laugh sounded like a gurgle. “I don’t know what came over me. Go on to church. I’ll have dinner waiting when you get home. How about if I grill out hot dogs? I can stick some of that fresh corn on the grill too. Doesn’t that sound yummy?”
“Sierra, sit down. Talk to me.”
Her sister stopped in her tracks, her face falling.
Annie felt dread bubble up from the deepest recesses. She put her hands on Sierra’s drooping shoulders, stabilizing her. “It’ll be okay. Whatever it is.”
Sierra’s eyes were wide and frantic again. They filled as her mouth opened.
“Talk to me, honey. You’re scaring me.”
Her lip trembled. “It’s—Ryder’s father. He was at church.”
“Ryder’s father? Why would he be here? Are you sure? It’s been four years, maybe—”
Sierra shook her head frantically. “His name is Luke. I’m sure it was him.” She covered her face. “What am I going to do?”
“Luke?” Annie asked. “Luke Taylor is Ryder’s father?”
“How do you know his name?”
She grabbed Sierra’s shoulders. “Honey, he’s Dylan’s younger brother.”
Luke Taylor. He was cut from the same cloth as his brother. Of course he had run from his responsibility after he’d gotten her sister pregnant. Annie wanted to wrap her hands around both their necks and give them a few hard shakes, never mind that he’d probably not told his family anything about the small matter of fathering a child.
She watched the truth register on Sierra’s face.
“Luke Taylor. I never even—”
“It’s a common name. And Luke was miles from here when you met him.”
Sierra had begged to go to that summer mission trip near Missoula. She’d been growing spiritually, and Annie had convinced their grandfather it would be good for her.
She wasn’t supposed to come home pregnant. Wasn’t supposed to have her first love reject her, then disappear without a trace.
“He’ll be leaving any day; he’s just visiting. But I’ll tell you what,” Annie said. “I have a few things I’d like to say to that man.”
“No, you can’t!”
“Watch me!”
Sierra grabbed her arm. “Please! He can’t know I’m here. He’s . . . he’s a cowboy, Annie. Do you really think he’d be a good role model for Ryder? You’re always saying they’re only good for leaving—do you think Ryder needs that kind of rejection? The kind we got from our father?”
Everything she said was true. But Annie had worked so hard to support them alone. It was unfair that Luke got off scot-free.
“We have to think about what’s best for Ryder,” Sierra said. “And you know what that is, Annie. You know.” Sierra swiped the tears from her face. “I’m so close to graduating, we’re almost there. Please. Please don’t say anything. I’ll just hide out until I know he’s gone, and he’ll be none the wiser.”
Annie studied her sister’s tearstained face. She took a few deep breaths. She didn’t like it one bit, but Sierra was right. They had to put Ryder first. Clearly Luke didn’t want anything to do with the boy, and exposing him as the father would only hurt Ryder in the long run.
Besides, they were surviving. It hadn’t been easy, but God had always provided for their needs.
“You’re right.” Annie pulled her into her arms and rubbed her back. “It’ll be okay. You’ll stay home until he’s gone. He’ll never even know you were here.”
“You can’t tell Dylan. Or anyone else, even Shay.”
That would be tough . . . but she’d do almost anything for her sister. “Of course not. Everything will be fine. I promise.”
Dear Baffled,
Your friend is trying to tell you she’s not interested. True, a straightforward answer would be more convenient, but she’s chosen a roundabout way of saying “No thanks.”
26
Annie pulled the truck into her drive and met Pepper at the fence. Her foot ached as she walked toward the corral. She’d been working with a quarter horse that wouldn’t load into a trailer.
Maisy had bumped her head on the trailer last fall, and then, when she wouldn’t load in the spring, Frank Peterson had decided she needed a whip to the hindquarters. This had only exacerbated the problem.
Unfortunately he’d been using the same method ever since, and now the mare bucked upon approaching the trailer. Annie had only made progress with Maisy when she’d removed Frank from the premises—a request he hadn’t taken kindly to. She’d gotten the horse loaded but not before Maisy’s hoof had come down on Annie’s boot.
The man had no business working with horses. If people treated them right, 99 percent of problems would never materialize.
“Isn’t that right, Pepper?” Annie rubbed the horse’s neck as he nickered hello.
She’d run into John at the market, where she’d gone for a bag of ice, and they’d had words over her injury. She wished he understood she wasn’t some hothouse flower. Working with horses carried risks, and he needed to accept that going forward. They’d finally made up and parted with strained smiles.
She gave Pepper a final pat. “See you later, big guy.”
Annie limped toward the house, her foot still smarting. Inside, a yeast and garlic aroma wafted in the air. Pizza. Not her first choice, but she’d take it.
“What happened to you?” Sierra asked.
“Minor accident.”
Ryder came sliding around the corner for a hug. “Yum, pizza!”
“You’re just in time.” Sierra set the hot pie in the center of the table while Annie sank into her chair. The swelling in her foot had gone down, but the words she’d exchanged with John still lingered in her mind.
“My turn!” Ryder folded his hands and bowed his head. “Thanks, God, for the pizza and for letting me beat Mom at Chutes and Ladders today. Amen.”
“You cheated,” Sierra teased.
“Did not. Mom doesn’t like to lose,” he said to Annie.
“She was the same way when we were kids,” Annie whispered.
“Hmph.” Sierra sliced the pizza and set a piece on Ryder’s plate.
As hard as it had been to make do without Sierra’s income over the summer, she knew Ryder had enjoyed having his mom home. Only a few more weeks and she’d be back in class. After hiding away the past two days, Sierra was getting antsy. By the end of the week, she’d be happy to go anywhere, even college.
“You got your classes scheduled online, right?” Annie asked.
Sierra wiped her mouth. “Not yet.”
Annie squeezed her napkin in her lap. “School starts in less than a month. I know you’ve been . . . distracted the last few days, but you only have five classes left. What if they fill up?”
“Don’t worry, I’ll handle it.”
“If you miss even one class, you won’t graduate in the—”
“I said I’ll handle it, Annie.”
“And you need to make sure Martha still wants to babysit—”
The phone rang and Annie scooted her chair back, glad for the distraction.
Sierra looked up, wide-eyed. “Don’t answer.”
Annie frowned as it rang again. “Why not?”
“Just don’t, okay?” She gave Ryder a stilted smile. “Let’s just enjoy our pizza, huh, buddy? No sense letting it get cold.” Her cheery voice wobbled.
“It’s yummy, Mommy.”
Annie sank into her chair. They’d had to drop voice mail, so the phone rang a few more times. Sierra sat rigidly until it stopped, chewing her
food, but Annie didn’t think she even tasted it. Had Luke somehow found out she was here? But why would he call when he’d wanted nothing to do with her or Ryder? It must be someone else.
After supper Annie loaded their plates into the dishwasher while Sierra washed the pizza pan.
“Okay, what gives?” Annie whispered.
“What do you mean?”
“Who are you avoiding? Besides Luke, I mean.”
Sierra breathed a laugh. “Just some. . . guy. You know.” She shrugged, her auburn hair bouncing on her shoulder. “I’m not interested, that’s all.”
“Have you told him that? It’s always best to be direct.”
Sierra faced her, blew out a long sigh. “I can handle it, Annie, okay? It’s my school schedule, my social life, and I can handle it all just fine.” She tossed the towel on the counter and left the room.
Annie could only pray Sierra was right.
Later that night the phone rang again. Annie squinted at the glowing hands on her alarm clock. After one. She automatically reached for her cell, then realized it was the landline ringing. She remembered the phone call at supper. Sierra and Ryder were safe in bed, so it wouldn’t be them. If it were a work emergency, whoever it was would’ve called her cell.
She jumped from bed anyway. She had to know what was going on. If it were some pushy guy, Annie would happily clue him in. But by the time she reached the kitchen, the ringing had stopped.
Sighing, she returned to her room, checking on Ryder on her way past. He was sleeping soundly, his legs in a tussle with the thrift-store cowboy sheets Sierra had found.
She climbed back into bed, worry tickling at the frayed edges of her mind at the thought of those phone calls. If Sierra was going to handle her own life, she wished the girl would do a better job.
Dear Uncertain,
Chemistry isn’t everything. But it’s something.
27
Annie stirred the green beans and checked the meat loaf. She’d needed someplace quiet to confess her moment of indiscretion to John, so she’d invited him for supper. She’d meant to do it sooner, but with the distraction of Luke being in town, it had taken all her energy to keep Sierra calm. Her sister had been even more upset when Annie had returned from Dylan’s the night before with bad news.
“Luke’s still in town, Sierra, and I’m afraid that’s not the worst of it . . . He’s staying three more weeks.”
“You said he was leaving any day, and that was five days ago!”
“Dylan said he changed his mind. You just have to hang in there a little while longer.”
“Three weeks!”
It was a blessing in disguise that Sierra didn’t have a job at the moment.
Her sister had fretted all night, and now she scurried around the house trying to get Ryder ready. They’d decided it would be safe for Sierra to go down the street to Bridgett’s house for the evening.
Annie gave the beans another stir. She had to put aside Sierra’s problems and focus on her own tonight. Help me find the words, Lord. I don’t want to hurt him.
She’d had a busy day and had to squeeze in a second run to the market, since the first had been a bust. She only hoped preparing John’s favorite meal would help wash down the bad news.
Annie checked the time. “John’ll be here any minute.”
“Ryder can’t find his hat.”
Annie fussed over the plates and settings, then chided herself. It wasn’t like the perfectly laid table would make the truth go down easier. Since seeing Dylan at the market and realizing Luke was his brother, Annie felt less confused about John. She had to stop comparing him to Dylan. Sure, Dylan made her heart patter, but Luke’s tie to Ryder made the relationship impossible—even if he was capable of commitment, which she doubted.
There was no future with a man like Dylan. He was never going to settle down, and—passionate kisses aside—there was no point in riding down that path.
John was her boyfriend. She liked him a lot, respected him, and she could learn to love him. He was everything she needed for a secure future. He’d be a good father, partner, and provider. Her children would have everything she’d lacked, and that was the important thing. So what if he was a little short on passion. Maybe that would grow with time too.
Seeing Dylan that week had only confirmed her thoughts. After working with Braveheart, she’d rushed through her letters with Dylan, hadn’t even argued when his opinion was contrary to hers. He hadn’t mentioned the kiss, but there’d been plenty of hiked brows and smug grins.
Yes, it was time to forget her silly crush and focus on the man who was serious about her and their future. All she had to do was own up to her mistake and ask his forgiveness. If they managed to survive this conflict, it would set the tone for future problems.
“You seen my hat, Aunt Annie?” Ryder appeared in the door-way, his rope looped in his chubby hands.
“Have you checked your toy box?”
“Nope.” Ryder dashed from the room, his bare feet padding across the wood floor. No shoes and socks yet. She glanced at the stove clock.
“Sierra . . . !”
“I know, I know.”
“Found it,” Ryder called.
Thank goodness.
A knock sounded on the door.
She pushed down her irritation with Sierra and answered the door with a smile.
John looked nice in a short-sleeved dress shirt and navy tie. “Annie. You’re a sight for sore eyes.” He handed her a bouquet of colorful flowers.
They’d both been so busy the past couple of weeks, they’d barely seen each other. And maybe he felt bad about the squabble over her foot.
“They’re beautiful, thank you. Come on in.”
He gave her a quick kiss as he passed, and she found herself comparing the kiss to Dylan’s.
Stop that, Annie.
“How’s your foot?”
“Just fine. Not even limping, see?”
“Good, good. Mmm, something smells delicious.”
“Hi, Mr. Oakley.” Ryder skidded to a halt in the foyer and plopped on the floor to put on his shoes.
“Hello there, Ryder. What have you been up to this week?”
“Practicing my ropin’! I’m a cowboy.”
“You don’t say.”
“Where’s your mom?” Annie asked.
“In the bathroom.”
She wished Sierra would hurry. This wasn’t how she’d wanted the night to begin.
The oven timer dinged. “Excuse me.”
In the kitchen she turned off the timer and pulled the meat loaf from the oven. She found a vase, filled it with water, then spread the blooms and placed the arrangement on the table.
In the other room she heard Ryder calling for Sierra to tie his shoes.
“Here,” she heard John say. “I can help with that.”
She set the meat loaf on the table and retrieved the green beans, listening to John’s quiet instruction.
“Build a teepee, come inside . . . close it tight so we can hide. Over the mountain, and around we go . . . Here’s my arrow, and here’s my bow.”
“Mommy does that too!”
“Does she? Well, it’s how I learned to tie my own shoes.”
Annie liked listening to him with Ryder. He was good with kids, a wonderful quality in a man. She had a sudden image of Dylan teaching Ryder to rope the fence, of him setting the new cowboy hat on the boy’s head. She pushed the images from her mind.
Sierra peeked into the kitchen. “Sorry! We’re leaving now. Have fun.”
Not likely. Annie said good-bye, suddenly nervous when their departure left the house too quiet.
“Well, supper’s ready,” she told John.
As he entered the kitchen, she set the basket of bread on the table. John pulled out her chair.
“Thank you. And thanks again for the flowers.” They looked cheery in the center of the table.
“Shall I?” John asked, taking her hand.
Annie
acquiesced with a smile.
“Heavenly Father, we thank You for this food and for the lovely hands that prepared it. We ask Your blessing on our evening, on our lives. Amen.” He squeezed her hand.
“Amen.”
John caught her up on his mom’s move while they ate. He’d gotten her settled into her apartment, and she was already making friends with her new neighbors and planning to start a book club. His love for his mother was apparent in his tone. Another good quality.
Annie told him about the stubborn stallion she’d worked with that day, quieting when she sensed his worry. He complimented her on the meal and ate two portions of everything, then he helped her tidy the kitchen.
“Would you like to sit on the porch?” Annie asked after the last dish was washed and put away.
“Sounds perfect.”
The sun had disappeared behind the mountains, ushering in that golden hour of light. She sat in the swing, and John put his arm around her, then pushed off. The sweet smell of her favorite lilac bush competed with his cologne.
For a few minutes there was only the rhythmic creaking and the hard thumping of her heart. She had to tell him now. The guilt was eating her alive.
“John, I—”
“Annie, I—”
They smiled at their timing.
“You first,” she said, suddenly eager for a reprieve, no matter how brief.
He turned toward her, an intent look on his face. The waning daylight reflected in his glasses, blocking his eyes.
He took her hand. “I just wanted to say I’m really sorry about my . . . behavior a couple of weeks ago. I shouldn’t have pressed you so hard about that night at the cabin. I should’ve trusted you.”
Guilt weighted her shoulders. “That’s not necessary, John, I—”
“Wait, Annie. Please. Just let me get this out.”
Hers could wait. She smiled and nodded for him to proceed.
He pushed his glasses up with his index finger, and she could see his eyes again. They were olive green in the golden light and sparkled with purpose.
“I was jealous, pure and simple.”
Her heart twisted painfully. He wasn’t going to make this easy.
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