by Linda Warren
Blanche was right about that. Becca couldn’t deny that she was attracted to Cord; it was there every time she looked at him. She couldn’t explain it and she sure didn’t understand it. He had done nothing to encourage her, except love his little girl. She admired that in him. She’d noticed it the very first time she’d met him—his love, his heartfelt pain and his strength. She genuinely liked Cord Prescott, and beyond that she didn’t want to think. Her goal was to guide Nicki through this rough time, then go back to Houston to begin her new life. She’d finally achieved the goal she’d been working toward for almost ten years.
Why wasn’t she more excited about it? Why, instead, did she keep seeing two pairs of brown eyes? She was so afraid that Nicki might become attached to her, but what if Becca became attached to Nicki—and to Cord? Oh God, what was she going to do?
CHAPTER FIVE
BECCA RESOLVED to stop thinking about the negatives and do what she’d come here to do. As soon as Nicki opened her eyes, Becca didn’t give her time to start crying or begging to stay in her room. She brushed the child’s blond curls and put them in pigtails. She grabbed some children’s books off the shelves, then carried Nicki—Dolly and all—downstairs, even though the child should walk on her own. When they reached the bottom of the stairs, she set Nicki on her feet, waiting for a temper tantrum. None came. Mainly, Becca suspected, because Nicki was still half-asleep. She took her hand and they walked into the kitchen.
Della glanced up from snapping green beans. “Well, ain’t this something,” she remarked.
“Could you tell me how to get to the backyard?” Becca asked. “Nicki and I are going outside for a while.”
“You can go out this back door or through the French doors in the den.”
“Thank you, Della,” Becca replied. “We’ll go out this door.”
“Amazing,” Della muttered, as Nicki followed Becca without a word of protest.
Outside, Becca caught her breath. To the right were garages, but to the left was a beautifully landscaped yard. The swimming pool had a cascading waterfall. At the shallow end was a kiddie pool, probably built for Nicki. The large swing set and sandbox, she knew, were also for Nicki. A decorative wrought-iron fence enclosed the yard, and green shrubs and flower beds surrounded it. Through the fence, Becca got a view of the ranch. Nearby were numerous barns and sheds, but her eyes were riveted on the valley below. Cattle dotted the landscape, so many that she couldn’t even count them. Two tractors and a truck were moving toward the barns, and in the distance, several riders on horseback meandered among the cattle. It was like something out of a movie, an old western with John Wayne or Gary Cooper. She wondered if Cord was on horseback or in the truck or tractor.
She shook her head and walked to the covered patio. Placing the books on a table, she turned to Nicki, who stood there staring at her with sad eyes. Becca tried to get her to swing, to play ball, to run, to laugh, but nothing worked. This was going to be a long afternoon.
Finally they went in for a snack. Della had milk and cookies waiting. Nicki took a bite and drank half her milk, but that was it. When they went back outside, Becca noticed the books she’d put on the table.
She sat in a lounge chair and reached for one. “How about a story?”
Nicki shook her head. “No, I don’t want to.”
Becca opened the book, and on the title page was inscribed “To my precious baby, Nicki. I love you. Mommy.” She saw that each book had a similar inscription. She wondered if Nicki even knew about it.
Becca opened the first book a little wider. “Do you want me to read this to you?”
“No,” Nicki shouted, jerking it out of her hands.
Nicki knew what was written in the book—that was obvious. It was time to talk about Anette. “Your mommy wrote something on one of the pages.”
Nicki’s eyes grew stormy.
“She wrote that she loved you.”
“No, she didn’t,” Nicki shouted, then added in a pitiful voice, “She went away.”
Becca pulled the child onto her lap. She just held her for a moment, suddenly understanding the source of Nicki’s pain. Nicki thought her mother didn’t love her and that was why she’d left.
She kissed her forehead. “Sweetie, listen to me. Your mother didn’t leave you. She was sick and she died.”
“She didn’t feel good,” Nicki mumbled.
Evidently Anette had a lot of those days and Nicki was aware of that, which Becca hoped would make her mother’s death easier for Nicki to grasp. “Yes,” she said, opening the book, “but she loved you. It says so right here and you feel it in your heart—” she placed her hand on Nicki’s chest “—don’t you?”
Nicki nodded, then abruptly jumped up, dropping Dolly and running to where some crows were scratching in the flower beds. “No, no, no!” she screamed, shooing the birds away.
Becca didn’t know what to think, but she quickly followed. Nicki knelt in the dirt and carefully spread leaves into a neat pile.
“Nicki, what’s wrong?”
“They were bothering Goldie.”
“Goldie?”
“That’s my goldfish. He died, and Daddy and me buried him here. See?” She pointed to a pole in the fence. “Daddy marked a X on the fence so I’d know where Goldie was.”
“I see,” Becca said, thinking this over. Did Nicki know where her mother was buried? That sense of not knowing where her mother was could result from never having seen her grave. Becca would have to find out about this.
She took Nicki’s hand. “Goldie’s fine. Come, let’s sit on the swings.”
Nicki trudged obediently to the swings and sat there with her head down. Becca could only imagine what she was thinking.
“Nicki, have you ever been to your mother’s grave?”
Nicki looked at her with big eyes, then shook her head. Becca had thought as much. Cord was trying to protect her, but Nicki needed to see the place where her mother was buried.
“Would you like to go?”
Her eyes grew even bigger. “Can I?”
“Sure, and we’ll take some flowers.” She made that decision without thinking. Cord wasn’t going to like this, she felt sure. Maybe she should’ve tried to explain it to him first, but it was too late.
“Roses!” Nicki clapped her hands together. “Mommy loves red roses.”
Before Becca could curb her excitement, Cord came through the back gate. Nicki immediately ran to him. “Daddy, Daddy,” she cried, and he swung her up in his arms.
“How’s my baby?” Cord asked.
“Becca and me, we…we…” She twisted her hands in her excitement.
“Slow down so you can tell me,” he instructed gently.
“Becca and me, we…we gonna go to Mommy’s grave.”
“What!” The blood drained from his face and he pinned Becca with a cold stare.
“Yeah, Daddy, and we gonna takes roses ’cause Mommy likes them.”
“Nicki, sweetie, you’d better go get Dolly.” Becca intervened, knowing she had to get Cord alone. “She looks awfully lonely.”
“’Kay,” she said, and ran to the patio.
“How could you?” Cord demanded as soon as Nicki was out of earshot. “I never expected you’d do something like this. Go to Anette’s grave? That’s insane!”
“Would you listen to me for just a second?”
“No, I don’t think so. I told you there’re just so many things I’ll tolerate, and this isn’t one of them.”
Becca brushed back her hair with an angry gesture. “That’s too bad, Cord, because Nicki needs to know where her mother is.”
“What are you talking about?”
She told him about the books and Goldie, and she could see him calming down. “She thinks her mother left because she didn’t love her. She doesn’t understand that she’s in a grave—like Goldie. She needs to see that.”
He pulled off his hat and shoved a hand through his hair. “Becca, I—”
“Look at
her. She’s excited at the prospect.”
His eyes caught hers. “The cemetery is such a depressing place.”
“It’s part of life and you can’t shield her from that. Besides, we’ll be with her.”
The word we’ll sounded so good to him. What would she say if he told her he needed someone with him when he went there, too? He hadn’t been to the cemetery since Anette’s headstone was set. After the sadness and loss had worn off, he’d felt angry. He still did. So angry that she’d hurt him and Nicki like this. It seemed impossible to get through those emotions, and he had no real desire to visit Anette’s grave. Now Becca wanted him to take Nicki. He didn’t know if he could do it.
At his hesitation, Becca said, “I can’t take her without your permission.”
They continued to stare at each other, and Cord suddenly realized he didn’t have much of a choice. For his daughter, he would do anything—even visit her mother’s grave. One thought kept running through his mind: Becca will make it easier for both of us.
“Let me go inside and get cleaned up, then we’ll go.”
Becca smiled, and his chest tightened. God, she was beautiful.
“Thank you, Cord. I know this is hard, but I believe it’s what Nicki needs.”
“You’re the doctor,” he said, moving toward the house. “Daddy will be right back,” he called to Nicki.
“’Kay,” she answered.
Inside, he took a long breath. He’d never realized that having Becca here would be so difficult for him. He hadn’t felt the inclination to be with a woman in over a year. At forty-two, he’d thought those urges were gone; looking at Becca, he knew they weren’t. But he could control them, and he would. Being Colton’s girlfriend put her way off-limits. Not to mention the fact that she was too young. He wouldn’t be foolish like his father. Becca was here for Nicki and that was the only interest he had in her. He had to keep telling himself that.
SOON THEY WERE IN CORD’S TRUCK and traveling toward Houston. The truck was a four-door cab with leather seats and every feature available. To Becca’s astonishment it rode like a car. Becca sat in the passenger seat, with Nicki in the back.
“We have to get flowers, Daddy,” Nicki reminded him.
“Okay, baby,” Cord said, pulling into a small flower shop.
Before they could stop her, Nicki crawled out of the truck, leaving Dolly on the seat. “I have to pick them out. I know what Mommy likes.”
Cord glanced at Becca, and they slowly followed.
In the flower shop Nicki became shy and didn’t say a word.
“We’d like to see some red roses, please,” Cord said.
The florist brought out a huge vase of red roses.
Cord looked at Nicki. “What do you think?”
Nicki held up three fingers. “We need three.”
Cord didn’t know why they needed three, but he paid the lady and she put them in a box. Nicki carried the box to the truck and sat with the roses on her lap.
A few minutes later, Cord drove through the gates of the cemetery, parking near Anette’s grave. He gulped a couple of deep breaths, then got out of the truck. Taking Nicki’s hand, he made his way to the grave. They stood for a while, staring at the headstone. ANETTE PRESCOTT was written in bold letters.
Pain and memories overwhelmed Cord, and he tried to dredge up Anette’s face, but he couldn’t. It was shadowy; he couldn’t make it out. God, what was wrong with him? he thought, panicking a little. He should be able to see his wife’s face.
Cord was lost in his own inner pain, so Becca led Nicki to the gravestone. Nicki pointed to the lettering. “That’s my mommy’s name,” she whispered.
Becca knelt down. “Yes, it is. This is where your mommy’s buried.”
“Oh,” she whispered again, her little arms locked tightly around the box of roses.
“You want to put the roses on the grave?”
“’Kay.”
Becca opened the box. Nicki removed the roses and placed them, one by one, on the grave.
“You can talk to her if you want,” Becca said.
Nicki twisted her hands. “Will she hear me?”
“Yes, she’ll hear you.”
Nicki stared at the roses, and Becca knew she was nervous, so she pulled the child into her arms. “Go ahead, say what you want to.”
“I brought you flowers, Mommy,” Nicki said in a breathless voice. She glanced at Becca. Becca nodded and Nicki continued. “Red roses that you like. One’s from me, one’s from Daddy and one’s from Becca.”
Again Nicki turned to Becca. “Anything else you want to say?” Becca asked.
Nicki was still twisting her hands, and Becca sensed that now was the time to get everything out in the open. “If you’re mad at your mother, tell her.”
Nicki shook her head. “I’m not mad at her.” She looked at the grave. “I’m not mad at you, Mommy. You didn’t feel good. Do you feel better now?”
A lump formed in Becca’s throat, and her arms tightened around Nicki. “Oh, yes, she feels much better because you’re here.”
She held her for a little while longer, then got to her feet. “Ready to go?”
“Uh-huh.”
Becca stopped when she saw Cord’s shattered expression. He held his hat in his hands, his fingers crushing the Stetson. It was painful to watch. She wondered how many times he’d been to Anette’s grave. From his reaction, not often.
“Cord,” she said tentatively.
His head jerked in the direction of her voice, but all he could hear was Nicki’s words. I’m not mad at you, Mommy. You didn’t feel good. He heard the awe and joy she felt at being near her mother again. Why hadn’t he brought her here? Why hadn’t he seen that his child needed to visit her mother’s grave? He felt like a failure as a father because he’d let his hurt and pride get in the way. He had failed Nicki.
“Cord.”
He made an effort to collect himself. “Yes.”
“Are you ready?”
“Sure.”
The drive from the cemetery was quiet, until Nicki started asking questions.
“Becca?”
“Hmm?”
“Is my Mommy ’cared?”
“No, sweetie, she’s at peace and she’s in heaven.” She looked surreptitiously over at Cord, to make sure he approved of that answer. He nodded.
“Becca?”
“Hmm?”
“Is heaven a nice place?”
“Very nice, and no one feels bad in heaven.”
“Oh.”
On and on it went. Nicki kept asking questions. Cord noticed that she never asked him, just Becca, and he was beginning to feel left out, which was patently ridiculous. But he wanted Nicki to turn to him. He wanted to be the one to help her, even though he’d realized months ago that he couldn’t. He was too emotionally involved. It took someone like Becca to free Nicki from the doubts and fears caused by Anette’s death.
“Daddy.”
Cord was so consumed by his own misery that he didn’t hear Nicki the first time.
“Daddy!”
“Yes, baby. What is it?”
“Can I have an ice cream?”
He glanced at Becca and smiled. He couldn’t help it. His baby wanted to eat. Hallelujah. He didn’t even care that it was close to supper.
“Sure,” he replied happily.
“I want chocolate on mine. Becca does, too.”
“Really?” Cord raised an eyebrow at Becca.
She shrugged. “I have a thing for chocolate.”
“Yeah, I think I heard that before.” The glint in his eyes made her stomach tense excitedly.
They each had a cone dipped in chocolate, and it was a joy to watch Nicki gobble hers. Cord got ice cream on his mustache, and Becca had the ludicrous urge to lick it off. As he wiped it away with a napkin, her fantasy dissolved into a pleasurable ache.
When they got back to the ranch, Della had supper waiting. As usual, Edie was eating in her room and Blanche was o
ut. They sat at the kitchen table, just the three of them. Nicki hadn’t stopped talking during their drive home or during the meal; finally her head started to bob and Becca saw that she was about to fall asleep.
Becca got to her feet. “I’ll take her to bed.”
“I can put my own child to bed,” Cord snapped as he scooped Nicki up.
“Sure,” Becca said, wondering what that was about. He seemed put out with her. Maybe he was still feeling emotional over the visit to the cemetery. Whatever it was, she didn’t like the feeling that he was upset with her.
CORD STRIPPED NICKI OUT OF her clothes and pulled her nightgown over her head, then held her tightly in his arms. “I love you, baby,” he whispered in her hair.
“Love you, Daddy,” she answered sleepily.
His child was back. The process of healing had started. He knew there’d still be bad days, but he felt so much better about things. Yet he also felt helpless because he hadn’t been able to do this for her, his own daughter. And he’d snapped at Becca for no reason. Oh God, he had to apologize for that.
He gently tucked Nicki in and removed the pigtail bands from her hair. He stood for a moment, staring at his precious child. He could finally see the light at the end of the long, dark tunnel. They were going to make it; he knew that with certainty.
Now he had to find Becca.
DELLA SAID SHE’D GONE to her room, so he went back upstairs. He knocked on her door.
She opened it with a hairbrush in her hand. “Cord,” she said in surprise.
“Hi. Could I talk to you for a minute?”
“Sure.” She moved aside to let him in.
“I’m sorry to bother you.”
“It’s okay. I was just brushing my hair before my shower. Something I do every night.”
He’d love to watch that ritual, but shook his head to rid himself of those thoughts. “I have to apologize,” he said quickly, sitting in a chair positioned near the door.
“For what?”
“For snapping at you and being in a disagreeable mood.”
She sat on the bed facing him. “I know this isn’t easy for you.”