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True Horizon

Page 22

by Laurie Winter


  Could she sleep next to him and feel safe? Or would violent nightmares and flashbacks cause her unintentional harm? His past would always be a part of who he was. For better or worse, his experiences had formed him into the man he was today. She had to be confident that when the going got rough, and it would, she’d love him enough to stand firmly by his side.

  ****

  The next morning, when Grace finally dragged herself out of bed, she grabbed her cell phone and noticed a text from Tyler.

  —On my way. Meet me at the gazebo at 10—

  Dread hit her. She was not looking forward to this conversation. She still cared for Tyler but her connection with Heath was soul deep. Maybe Tyler had also realized they’d grown apart. As Grace drove on the long, gravel driveway to her parents’ house, she realized the ranch was part of her soul. Most people might not understand why a piece of land meant more to her than anything money could buy.

  She parked next to Tyler’s sleek car and, out of habit, checked her hair and makeup in the visor mirror. With buzzing nerves, she slowly walked toward Tyler, who waited in the gazebo.

  Before Grace was halfway there, her mother opened the screen door. “Grace, I need to see you inside.”

  Grace waved at Tyler before following her mom into the kitchen. “I don’t need any more lectures.”

  “Sit, please.” Joslyn pointed to a kitchen chair.

  Her mother’s normally smooth complexion now appeared flushed and uneven. Shadows darkened the puffy skin under her eyes. Grace’s stomach hummed like a hive of bees. “Mom, what’s going on?”

  Joslyn lowered her gaze to her folded hands. “Dad’s sick. He didn’t want you to know until after the wedding.”

  “I know he wasn’t feeling well the other day, but he said it was nothing to worry about.. He’s just been busy working the ranch.” Her body seized with worry.

  “Several weeks ago, he was diagnosed with MS, Multiple Sclerosis. Honey, his symptoms are progressing quickly.” Joslyn straightened in her chair. “Soon, he won’t have the strength to run the ranch. We plan on selling. I want to travel while he still has the strength.”

  Shock numbed her to the core. Her mother’s words made no sense. Dad was the strongest man she knew. And selling the ranch—how could they give up a place so precious? Grace shot to her feet. “Why didn’t you tell me earlier?”

  The shimmer of tears shone in Joslyn’s eyes. “Dad didn’t want to spoil your special day. He wanted his baby girl happy, not worried about her father.”

  Grace choked back a sob. “Are you sure the doctors didn’t make a mistake?”

  “Honey, we’ve seen a number of specialists.” Joslyn held Grace’s hand. “You need to understand the full ramifications of calling off your wedding. Dad and I would both feel better knowing you were settled and being taken care of.”

  The world under Grace’s feet tipped on its axis. “Who all knows?”

  “Besides, you and me, no one. We haven’t even told Alex, yet.” Joslyn exhaled a deep sigh. “Please reconsider. Walking you down the aisle while he still can would mean so much to your daddy.”

  The plea shot straight to her heart. She knew he would support her, no matter what. Dad always understood what made her tick. They were so much alike. “Where is he? I need to talk with him.”

  “He’s out in the south pasture, checking on the heifers.” Wiping tears from her eyes, Joslyn sniffed. “He didn’t want me to tell you. I only did because I’m afraid you’re making a mistake by calling off your wedding.”

  Frozen with overwhelming grief, Grace couldn’t move. The room spun. Despite her emotional state, she needed to make her position clear. “I’m not making a mistake. I don’t love Tyler enough to devote the rest of my life to him.” She took a deep breath. “I understand your concern, but please trust that I made the best decision for both Tyler and myself.”

  Joslyn wrapped Grace in a gentle embrace. She brushed her fingers through Grace’s long hair. “My wish since the day you were born is that you’d grow into a woman who knew her own mind. Seems like I got my wish.”

  “I also know my own heart. I want a marriage as wonderful as yours.” Grace sighed and rested her head on her mom’s shoulder.

  “What your dad and I have is special, and you deserve that, too.” Joslyn released her hold and stepped back. “I love you, my sweet daughter, and I respect your decision. Now, go outside and talk to Tyler. Then come find me when you’re finished. I’d like to hear more about where your head and heart are leading you.”

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  As Grace left the house, she barely felt her legs move underneath her. She walked to the gazebo and up the stairs, still numb with shock.

  Tyler took her hand.

  He looked like he belonged in a men’s fashion ad, wearing a crisp polo shirt and navy shorts. Tan boat-shoes completed the look. Every blond hair on his head was impeccably styled as always. The polar opposite of her hard-working, outdoor-loving father.

  He greeted her with a kiss on the cheek. “Hi.” Tyler rocked back on his heels.

  “Thanks for making the trip down here.” She didn’t want to do this. Not now. All she wanted was to find her dad, wrap her arms around him, and never let go. Grace grasped a white rail board, careful not to catch her hand on the thorny rose vines wrapped around the wood. The whole gazebo was now covered in red roses. Her mother had transplanted the plants earlier in the week. She thought of all the work both her parents had done to give her a dream wedding.

  Frowning, Tyler took hold of her left hand and kissed her bare ring finger. “You took off my engagement ring. When you told me you were having doubts, I thought you only had last-minute jitters.”

  Grace steeled her emotions. “I can’t marry you, Tyler. You want big-city excitement and a high-powered career. I’m happiest here, in the country. I want to run my business and live a simple life. Clearly, our lives are leading us on different paths.”

  His eyes widened. “When we started dating, you said you loved living in Dallas. What changed?”

  “Being here.” She moved away. “I’m sorry. The last thing I ever wanted was to hurt you.”

  He placed a hand on either of Grace’s shoulders and turned her to face him. A muscle twitched in his clenched jaw. “I love you.” Tyler’s blue eyes burned bright. “You are mine, and you will be my wife. I’ll do anything necessary to secure my ring on your finger.”

  “My heart isn’t up for negotiation.” His touch seared her skin. Outraged, she shrugged out of his hold. “I’m not a business deal. Plus, you shouldn’t concede your goals in order to make me happy.”

  Grace turned to see Heath standing in front of his bunkhouse. Even at the distance of a hundred feet, she recognized his troubled expression. Her mouth twitched in a brief smile.

  Tyler’s gaze followed Grace’s, and he growled. “I see GI Joe is still here.”

  She placed her hand under his chin and redirected Tyler’s attention. “You wouldn’t be happy living in Liberty Ridge. Growing up, you couldn’t wait to move away. One day, you’d blame me.”

  “Never.” He pulled her into an unyielding embrace. “Marry me, Grace. Don’t leave me.”

  “I love Heath. I can’t marry you when my heart is leading me elsewhere.” No more dancing around the truth.

  Tyler jerked back. “You’re crazy. Heath’s life is a mess. What could he possibly offer you that I can’t?”

  “I know his life is unstable right now, but he’s changed so much since coming here. He’s healing and getting his life back on track.” Courage gained from honesty stiffened her spine. “I’m not looking at what he can give me.” She pointed to herself. “I can take care of myself. I want to be there for him, and he wants to be a better man for me.”

  “You have a kind heart, and he’s using you.” Tyler grabbed her arm. His fingers dug into her flesh, pinching. “When he has angry outbursts, do you feel safe?”

  His voice was low and threatening. Had Tyler heard
about Heath’s bar fight at the Damn Yankee? Probably. And now he used that one mistake to stereotype Heath. As she unsuccessfully pulled away, Grace’s arm throbbed. “Let me go.”

  “Tell me you don’t see him as a murdering monster. Tell me he’ll be around in another five years…when you have children.” His lips curled in a sneer. “Or he won’t go off the deep end and leave you, or even worse, lose it and physically hurt you.”

  “Get your hands off of her.”

  A deep, menacing voice sounded, causing her to shiver. “Don’t, Heath.”

  Tyler tightened his hold on her arm and spun her around. Her back was firmly pressed against his chest.

  Heath stood before her, his eyes narrowed at Tyler in a deadly stare.

  “Grace is mine,” Tyler growled. “She only feels sorry for you. Crawl into a foxhole, soldier, and die. That’s an order.”

  “I’ll tell you one more time…let her go.” Heath took a step closer.

  “Please, Tyler,” she pleaded. Her heart pounded against her ribcage. She raised her shaking hand in a feeble attempt to halt Heath’s approach. “Heath, stay back. I’m fine.”

  “If you really care about her then you’ll leave and never return.” Tyler stepped backward, pulling along Grace. “I look into your eyes and I don’t see a soul. You’re empty…a cold-blooded killer.”

  In seconds, she was out of Tyler’s arms and lying on the rough wood of the gazebo floor. She heard a horrible thud before Tyler’s limp body crashed down beside her. His nose streamed blood. A scream rose inside her chest and burst through her lips.

  Standing, Heath looked down with glazed-over eyes.

  Grace pushed past his legs and crawled over to Tyler’s motionless form. “Go find my dad,” she shouted at Heath. “Go…now!”

  Heath turned on his heel and jogged away.

  Grace lifted the hem of her shirt and pinched Tyler’s nose, stopping the bleeding. What had just happened? Her head spun.

  Dad stepped onto the gazebo, carrying a towel and bottle of water. “Grace, I’ll take care of Tyler. He’ll be fine. Go to Heath.”

  Grace stood on shaky legs and released Tyler to her dad’s capable hands. “Where is he?”

  “I’m not sure. He found me outside the barn. He’s pretty upset. I’m afraid he’ll do something foolish.” Bruce put a large hand on Tyler’s back and helped him into a sitting position.

  She sprinted across the lawn. At the sight of Heath striding toward his Harley, panic took root. “Heath,” she yelled.

  He straddled the bike, not acknowledging her plea.

  “Don’t go,” she shouted. The roar from the engine drowned out her voice. Breathless, she reached him and grabbed his arm.

  He released the clutch and punched the throttle, accelerating down the driveway with a roar.

  Foolishly, she ran after him and tripped. Gravel stung her hands and knees. While she watched Heath’s retreating back, her heart crumbled.

  A large hand rested on her hunched shoulder. “Come on, butterfly. Let’s get you cleaned off. He’ll come home.”

  Her dad’s deep voice calmed her. As he led her to the horse stable, she saw Tyler sitting on a rocking chair on the front porch with an ice pack pressed to his jaw. Joslyn hovered over him like a protective mother bird.

  Inside the stable, Grace sat on a wobbly wooden stool while her dad retrieved the first aid kit. Her knees were raw, with gravel sticking to the bloodied flesh. What a mess. The whole world was angry with her. “I ended my relationship with Tyler. Please tell me I didn’t disappoint you.” Tears burned Grace’s throat and eyes.

  Dad opened a metal box decorated with a red cross. He took out a disinfectant wipe and knelt before her. “You did what you felt was best. I’m not mad. In fact, I’m kinda relieved. Never really liked the boy, anyway.”

  After letting out a shaky breath, she laughed softly. “Daddy, I’m surprised. You mean you’re not in love with him as much as Momma?”

  “No one is in love with Tyler as much as Momma.” Chuckling, Bruce took her hand and turned it palm up. He gently wiped away the dirt and blood.

  “This situation is my fault. Heath’s gone, Tyler’s heartbroken, and you and Mom spent so much money on a cancelled wedding.” She sniffled. “Now, I don’t know how to fix things with Heath.”

  “Give Heath a chance to calm down. He probably feels awful for losing his temper with Tyler and wounding you in the process.” Her dad peered up to meet her gaze. “His biggest fear is hurting you.”

  “I wish he was here so I could tell him I understand.”

  Her dad cleaned off the scrapes on her legs. Two bright red patches decorated her knees. He brought over a stool to sit next to her.

  Grace rested her head on his broad shoulder, her throat tightened. “Mom told me about your MS. Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “I didn’t want you to worry. I’ll be fine.” He patted her thigh. “Your lion of a mother will see to my care.”

  Grace smiled. Joslyn Murray was a force to be reckoned with, especially when it came to protecting her family. “Of course, I worry about you. You’re my pa.”

  “Thanks, pumpkin. We’ll see this through, just like every other challenge we’ve ever faced…as a family.”

  “What about the ranch?” The thought of leaving their beloved ranch, her family’s home, made her sick with grief. “Will you really sell?”

  “I wish we had another choice. A time will come when the MS won’t allow me to work the way I need to, even with the help of the ranch hands. And, to be honest, I’m tired and ready for a break.” His wide shoulders drooped. “Your mother and I will use the profits to take a trip around the world. The rest will cover my medical care.”

  “I want what’s best for you. But thinking about selling the ranch breaks my heart.” Above her, a dove flew into its nest and began to coo.

  “I know.” Her dad’s big hand gently stroked her hair. “I know.”

  She sat in silence, listening to the horses whinny back and forth. “I love you, Daddy.”

  “I love you, too, butterfly.”

  ****

  For hours, Heath rode the winding country roads. He barely noticed the Texas landscape he usually enjoyed. When he ran out of gas, he walked five miles, rolling his bike to the nearest gas station. By the time night fell, a bitter frost had formed over his heart. He’d been wrong to think he was worthy of Grace. He really was a monster.

  The truth was the price of admission. A cost more than he could endure. How could he keep his job with the Murrays, knowing Grace would never be his?

  When he returned to the ranch, the time was well past midnight. Grace’s car was not parked in its usual spot. She was gone. Tyler’s ostentatious car, along with its owner, had left as well. Heath opened the door to his bunkhouse and pictured her sitting at his table. The memory of her lips pressing against his, so soft and sweet, made his body ache. They’d been a perfect fit.

  Without her, the bunkhouse felt cold and empty. He picked up the copied sections of Ezra Burchfield’s journal and walked to the stable, where Grace’s spirit permanently dwelled. He could almost see her in the corner, where they’d watched the horrible zombie movie together. In the aisle, where she’d gotten him up on a horse for the first time. And in the spot where they’d shared their first kiss.

  He threw a horse blanket on the ground, sat, and began paging through the papers in his hand. Soon, he was lost in another world.

  Ezra wrote about the Indian Removal Act and his role in its enforcement. He had lived with immense guilt over the cruelty he’d witnessed. In an effort to help, he’d asked to be a medical escort for a group of Cherokee heading to Oklahoma.

  Heath read through pages filled with descriptions of the trip. How could anyone have survived something so horrible?

  After a closer look, some of Ezra’s experiences weren’t all that different from his own. One particular diary entry caught his attention. While reading the handwritten note, Heath felt his sk
in prickle at the realization Ezra had carried the same burden of guilt and shame.

  November 18, 1838

  As I sit by our weak fire tonight and write, I am struck by the hopelessness of our situation. The proud Cherokee people have been reduced to a nation of beggars. Many walk without proper attire. Threadbare blankets and shoes have become great luxuries. I do my part and help the weak and dying. My soul cries out in pain during their passing. So many had no chance of surviving the journey. We have dug too many graves.

  I think about my part in this man-made tragedy and shudder. By my bayonet, Cherokee families were pushed outside their homes. I was a tool of a government who used me to carry out its evil purpose. Many nights I lay awake, huddled under my blanket, hiding from the icy winds. I wish my life had taken a different route—following my father into medicine instead of running off to seek glory.

  During my time with the Cherokee, my respect for them grows every day. They are proud and self-sufficient. Earlier, I wrote about a beautiful girl. Her name is Kamama, which I learned means butterfly. She is only seventeen, but by taking responsibility for her mother and sister, is very mature. I have fallen deeply in love with her. Her hair is like black silk, and her eyes are so dark that when I look into them, I feel like I am drowning in a deep pool.

  Kamama’s father died shortly after we set off. His death was merciful, as he was ill even before the march. I will do whatever is in my power to make sure she reaches her new home, along with her mother and sister. Kamama’s little sister, Leotie, often rides atop my horse and sings, while Kamama and I walk side by side. She teaches me Cherokee, and I am helping her improve her English.

  I find myself thinking about Kamama often, especially at night when we are separated. I worry. Is she cold? Has she found a comfortable place to rest? If it was proper, I would never leave her side.

  When the time is right, I will propose marriage. First, I will finish my obligation to the Army and save my meager pay so we can buy a piece of land and start a family. My deepest fear is Kamama will always see me as the enemy. She, along with every Cherokee, has every right to hate me.

 

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