A Cowboy’s Honor

by Lois Richer

  “Did your mother die when you were four?” It was the only thing that made sense—a memory.

  “What on earth does that—”

  “Tell me!”

  Gracie nodded. “Yes, she did.”

  “I think I just had a flashback, a memory of the time you told me that.” The pieces were tumbling together as he saw the shadows move across her face.

  She frowned, but he wouldn’t let her speak. Not now. Not when he had to say what had just become so clear.

  “You lost your mother and that colors your perceptions. But Misty isn’t you. And I’m not your father.” He dragged her hands from his shoulders, gripped them. “Our daughter is not going to have to face what you did, Gracie.”

  “H-how do you know?” she whispered.

  “Because we are not your parents. Because I trust God to show me how to be the father that Misty needs, the husband you need.” He leaned forward. “Because our daughter already knows you love her more than life.”

  He kissed her again with all the hope his soul could muster, then quietly left the house, his senses muddled but his mind focused on one thing—getting his family back.

  “You’re pushing her too high.”

  “No, I’m not.” He didn’t laugh at her fear, but he didn’t stop pushing Misty on the swing, either. “The ropes are secure, Gracie. Misty’s hanging on. Nothing’s going to happen, so relax.”

  With many other families using the ranch’s playground today, it was impossible for her to tell him off. Not that she would in front of Misty, anyway. But Gracie was growing weary of Dallas’s determined efforts to disqualify her fears.

  “You have to stop hovering, Gracie.” He came over and sat down beside her. “She needs to be more independent.” He called out to Misty how many steps away they were. “And the slide is ten steps behind you if you want to play there.”

  It was the very method Gracie had read about in the books her doctor had loaned her, the same method taught at the clinics she couldn’t afford to send Misty to. But Gracie didn’t practice it herself. Misty always seemed too young, too vulnerable. So she’d put off pushing her child to discover her world by herself. After all, there’d be time enough.

  Dallas clearly didn’t share this philosophy.

  “You’re not doing her any favors, you know,” he said, shifting on the old quilt she’d brought. “Emily said they should learn as much independence as quickly as possible, and that five isn’t too young. She said she told you that the first day you met.”

  A hint of condemnation in his voice made her flush. “I’ve been working up to it.”

  “You’ve been avoiding it.”

  To avert an argument, Gracie began to rise, to go to Misty. Dallas’s hand on her arm prevented that.

  “You’re only making her world more difficult for her if you don’t prepare her properly,” he said quietly. “Misty’s very clever. She senses your fear and she’s attributing it to herself, to a weakness she thinks you see.”

  “That’s ridiculous.”

  He stared at their little girl with eyes blazing, his love obvious. “You think of her as handicapped, but she doesn’t see herself that way. Not yet. Misty has all kinds of dreams and she’s raring to fulfill them. Please don’t get in her way.”

  “It’s my job to protect her.”

  “And mine,” he reminded her.

  “You don’t know what might happen.”

  “Neither do you. All we can do is instill confidence in her to handle every situation.”

  Gracie couldn’t think of anything to rebut that so she sat still, watching as Misty gradually slowed the swing. But when she jumped off and tumbled onto the grass, Gracie bolted to her feet.

  Dallas rose, too, his hand on her arm as he called out how many steps to the teeter-totter. “I’ll be there in a minute.” He turned to Gracie, his face earnest. “I’m her father. Please let us have some time together. After the busy week we’ve had, you need a break. Take it. Let her get to know herself. And me her. Without watching us all the time.”

  His pleading voice affected Gracie. “I’ll think about it.”

  “Trust me, won’t you?”

  “I’m trying.”

  “I know. I appreciate it.” He brushed his thumb over her lips, causing a minor earthquake in the region of her heart. “You stretch out, get a bit of color in your cheeks. Misty and I will be over there.” Dallas pointed to the teeter-totter, brushed his hand against her hair, then loped across the grass toward their daughter.

  Gracie sat down, knees too weak to hold her upright.

  Dallas was taking over. She hadn’t really absorbed the fact that he was back yet, and now watching him move Misty up and down on the beam didn’t reassure her at all. In her mind she knew he was right, that she had to help Misty become more independent. But in her heart all Gracie wanted was to snuggle her precious baby close and keep her safe from all of life’s troubles.

  She needed Misty as much as Misty needed her.

  Gracie remained seated on the blanket, watching. And while she watched, she saw her child gain confidence as Dallas encouraged her to try different things. The swing, the teeter-totter, hanging from the bars—Misty gloried in all of them, her face beaming with excitement. But when Dallas held her up so she could grasp the handle of the child’s zip-line, Gracie could no longer stay silent. She got up and approached the teeter-totter.

  “I think that’s enough now.”

  “Not yet, Mommy. This is the most fun I’ve ever had!” Misty hollered, then squealed with delight as Dallas let her go and she swung through the air.

  Gracie tried to repress the hurt. A glance at Dallas’s face told her he understood her pain, how deeply those innocent words cut, when she’d spent the past five years giving everything she had.

  “Don’t be upset, Gracie. She didn’t mean anything by it.”

  She jerked her eyes away from his, scanned the playground to where Misty had just walked.

  “She’s talking to Rory. She’s fine.”

  Rory and two other children Gracie didn’t recognize.

  “They’re just being kids, joking with each other. They’ll be fine.”

  He was right. Rory had hold of Misty’s hand and was leading her toward the swings. He waited until she’d climbed into one before laying down his canes and gently pushing the swing into motion.

  “Rory’s mother is watching them, Gracie. They’ll be fine.”

  Just then a woman waved her hand and smiled.

  “Misty was trying to convince him to play with the dolls she brought in her backpack. Rory has a truck. Dolls and trucks don’t seem to go together, but they worked it out. Kids usually do.”

  “I guess.” Gracie fiddled with the grass, pulling the greenest spears.

  “You’re with her or at work all the time. Don’t you ever want some time to yourself?”

  “What do you mean?” Suspicion edged its way into her heart.

  “I mean you have no free time. It must be difficult.”

  “I love Misty.”

  “I know that, but if I were to spend a day with her, or even an afternoon, you could go shopping, get your hair done, whatever.” Dallas’s voice softened. “She’d be safe with me, Gracie.”

  “That’s what it’s really about, isn’t it? You’re trying to steal my daughter.” Her heart filled with fury and fear.

  “My daughter, too, remember.” He sighed, tilted his head back as if stretching out a knot in his neck. “I’m not going to kidnap her. I just want, need, time to be with her, for her to get used to me. That’s all I’m asking for, Gracie.”

  That’s all he was asking now. But what would happen when his memory returned? Dallas kept wanting more and more. What if he wanted to take Misty away with him? How would Gracie combat his parents?

  “We’ve seen a hundred girls exactly like you. Girls claiming to be our son’s wives, girlfriends, lovers. You’ll say anything to collect that reward money, won’t you? But our son wo
uld have told us if he’d married. He would not have left his wife alone and pregnant. So I’d advise you to go and don’t come back. Or we’ll have you arrested.”

  The memory of that big oak door slamming shut in her face still stung. Gracie jumped to her feet.

  “What’s wrong?”

  Dallas was good at reading her. He’d probe and press until she finally admitted the truth, and that was the one thing Gracie had promised herself she’d never do. He would never know how callously they’d treated her, of their arrogant dismissal when she’d needed them so desperately. She could never tell him that his own parents had rejected her and the child she was carrying.

  “Gracie?”

  “You want time with her? You’ve got this afternoon. I’ll be back in a couple of hours.”

  She checked one last time to be sure Misty was all right. Dallas noticed.

  “She’ll be fine. I’ll make sure of that, Gracie, I promise.” He was beside her, touching her arm. “You can trust me.”

  She stepped away, desperate to escape the fluttering of her heart. “I’ll just tell her so she won’t worry when I’m not here.”

  Dallas said nothing, simply stood there while Gracie explained to Misty.

  “Okay, Mommy. Me and Rory are going to play for a while, then Dallas said I could have a big ice cream cone. A chocolate one.”

  “That sounds yummy.” She hugged the tiny girl to her heart, kissed her cheek and hurriedly said goodbye. Misty was so easily willing to replace her with Dallas. The knowledge scraped her already skinned nerves.

  Sympathy shone in Dallas’s dark gaze. Gracie turned away from it.

  “See you later,” she said.

  But as she drove toward the city, Gracie couldn’t help wondering if this was the first of many times she’d be on her own while father and daughter enjoyed a day. Fear grabbed her at the thought of being locked out of Misty’s life.

  Unsure of what to do with her newfound freedom, Gracie headed for the only place in Dallas she’d ever found happiness. The arboretum.

  Dallas knew he’d goofed badly when he took Misty home and found Gracie thrashing through the pool.

  He’d seen her vehicle return, knew she hadn’t been able to stay away, to trust him without being there in case her daughter needed her. That lack of trust had bitten deeply.

  He had to keep reminding himself that he had left her for six years. Remember that she recalled every lonely night, every terror-filled moment when no one had been there to support or encourage her.

  By the time Gracie climbed out of the water and pretended to listen to Misty’s long-winded explanation of what they’d done that afternoon, Dallas had conquered his irritation at her unreasonable fear. Now he just wished he could wrap his arms around her.

  “That’s lovely, darling. I’m glad you enjoyed yourself. I guess I’d better get dinner.”

  “But that’s the best part. Me and Dallas made pizza!” Misty glowed with excitement. “I cut up the peppers and onions and mushrooms.”

  “Cut?” Gracie’s blue eyes turned glacial.

  “She used a table knife,” he said softly.

  “An’ I grated some of the cheese. But I cutted my hand. See?” Misty held up her bandaged knuckle for her mother’s inspection. “It doesn’t hurt. Not really. Cheese feels funny when you grate it.”

  “Does it?”

  “We went on a frog hunt after that. Dallas lets me do lots of stuff, Mommy. Can we do stuff with him tomorrow?”

  “We’ll see.”

  Misty sighed, nudged him in the ribs. “That mostly means no,” she said, her forehead creasing. “I don’t think Mommy is very happy.”

  “I’m—”

  “Didn’t you have a good time shopping, Mommy?” She danced from one foot to the other. “Did you buy a new dress?”

  “A new dress? Why? Do I need one?”

  Dallas winced at the glare she shot his way.

  “You always look lovely,” he said sincerely, wishing he remembered more about his wife’s quicksilver moods. “No matter what you wear.”

  “Dallas said he’ll take us for real pizza sometime,” Misty interjected. “To a pizza restaurant called Martini’s. I thought maybe you went to get a dress for that.”

  “Martini’s?” Gracie frowned at him. “You remembered?”

  “The name.” He shrugged. “It came back when we were making the pizza. It seemed important so I checked in the phone book. I guess it’s still doing business.”

  “Yes, it is.” Gracie looked away, her cheeks slightly pink.

  She pretended nonchalance, but Dallas knew from her reaction there was more to it. “What else should I have remembered, Gracie?”

  “We had dinner there after we were married.”

  “Oh.” He prayed for patience. Would these black holes ever fill with memories again?

  Silence stretched for a few moments.

  “What did you make your pizza crust out of?”

  “I borrowed some refrigerator dough from the mess hall cook.” He waited for her to comment on the lack of nutrition, but Gracie only held his gaze for several moments. Then she smiled.

  “Then I guess we’d better cook it. Or you should. I’ll shower while you and Misty get things ready.” Gracie went into the house, leaving them on the patio.

  Dallas caught the challenge in her comment. He wanted time with his daughter; she’d give it to him and watch him royally mess up.

  Only Dallas didn’t intend to mess up. Every time he looked at Misty he had an urge to tell the whole world, This is my little girl. He believed God was with him, helping him regain his life.

  “Come on, Miss. We have to get dinner on.” Dallas put their pizza in the oven and then showed Misty how to set the table.

  “Very good!” He applauded when she’d arranged two other settings exactly like his. “Now we’ll pour you a drink.”

  Misty dribbled a lot onto the counter but she was proud of herself for filling the glass. While they waited for the pizza to be done, they happily created a salad together.

  Gracie seemed pleased at their accomplishments, until he stayed her hand when she would have stopped Misty from serving the first slice of pizza. Then her face froze, she jerked her hand away and said nothing more to him.

  “Excellent service, Miss Henderson. Now mine.” He held out his plate.

  Misty found the edge of the plate he held out, slid the server under another piece of pizza, then carefully laid it on his plate. She glowed with pride. Dallas stared at Gracie, silently begging her to notice.

  “It’s wonderful pizza, honey. And the salad was scrumptious. You’re a good cook.” She hugged Misty until the little girl wiggled away, insisting her mother had to taste the dessert, which turned out to be an apple for each of them, polished to a high sheen.

  Funny how much Dallas wished Gracie would hug him like that.

  But he couldn’t have been prouder of Misty’s success. He cleaned up the kitchen while Gracie helped Misty prepare for bed. Twice he heard the sound of stifled yawns, proof of Misty’s overtiredness. His fault.

  “Can I help?” He stood in the doorway of Misty’s room, noting the weary slope of Gracie’s shoulders. She was running on nerves. “How about bedtime prayers?”

  “I already said them. It’s time for a story. I always have a story before bed, but Mommy says not tonight,” Misty told him, pouting.

  “Would it be okay if I sang a lullaby instead?” Dallas offered, longing to be a part of their ritual.

  “Sing?” It was clear his wife had forgotten his love of music, something he’d only recently discovered himself.

  “I don’t have a guitar, but I think I can still carry a tune. Shove over, kiddo.” At least Misty seemed excited.

  Dallas thought for a moment, then began a ballad that had been in his head for the past several days. He heard a muffled sound behind him, saw Gracie rush out.

  What now? Something from the past, no doubt.

  He was wear
y of these land mines. If he could only remember.

  Misty pressed him to continue, and he did. In fact, he made it halfway through the second verse before her eyelids dropped and she sighed, snuggled into her pillow and fell fast asleep.

  Dallas eased off the bed and pulled the covers up to her chin. He bent, brushed his lips against her porcelain skin.

  “Good night, sweet Misty.”

  The night-light was already on so he left the room, and prayed for wisdom when he saw Gracie hunched over on the patio, her cheeks shiny with tears in the bright moonlight.

  Chapter Six

  Gracie knew the moment Dallas left Misty’s room. She heard his light-footed tread, the swish of the patio door, his quick, soft inhalation before he stepped outside.

  Every movement made her nerves tighter.

  She’d chosen to sit in the patio swing beside the door. Dallas sat down beside her, touched her chin so she had to look at him. Her blood traitorously sang at his touch.

  “What did I do wrong?”

  “Nothing.” She summoned a smile. “It’s just…hard. You know?”

  “Because you’ve been her world for so long and now I’m butting in and taking over.”

  She blinked at him in surprise.

  “I’m not trying to push you out, Gracie. But we’re both her parents. That’s the way God created families. She needs both of us. We bring balance to her world.”

  “I know.”

  “But?”

  “I saw the way she handled making the pizza and the salad, Dallas. I know I’ve shielded her too much.”

  “Misty learns so quickly. She could do so much more for herself.” If you’d let her.

  “I didn’t intentionally stunt her growth, you know.” Anger flared, red-hot. “I don’t know why you persist in seeing me as some kind of domineering witch who cages her daughter. It isn’t like that. I give her as much freedom as I can, but I also have to be mindful of her boundaries. Just because you have her doing new things doesn’t change my role or make my decisions wrong.”

  “Gracie, I’m not criticizing you.”

  “It sure seems like it.” The memories of his song and its promise ate at her composure, but Grace hung on, struggled to refocus on what she needed to say. “For five years I’ve had to gauge every decision, make sure I didn’t press too hard, ease forward, with no idea if I was doing the right thing or the wrong. I’ve put everything on hold so that Misty can develop at her own pace. It hasn’t exactly been easy and I’ve questioned my choices many times.”