by Lois Richer
“Did I?” Now she was ready to talk about the past?
“Uh-huh. Durham was a crotchety thing, usually wouldn’t let anyone but us near him. But he’d almost crawl on his belly to you, waiting for your touch.”
“What a strange name for a dog.”
Misty’s squeak of surprise had Gracie jumping to her feet. “Misty, watch—”
Dallas intervened.
“Take it easy, Miss. The mother cat wants her babies now. Let them go and she’ll back off.”
“They’re so soft. Like the sweater Mommy has.” Misty released the kittens, rubbed her arm where a tiny scratch grew red against her white skin. “What else is here?”
Dallas watched while the attendant applied antiseptic to her arm before carrying the cats from the room. She returned with something new.
“There’s a gerbil in a cage behind you,” Dallas stated. “Three steps back and four away from us.”
“What’s a gerbil?”
While he explained, Misty followed his directions. Dallas smiled as her nimble fingers played with the lock of the cage, figuring out how to open it.
“Hold your body in front so he can’t get out, then reach in and gather him into your hands. Hang on, though. We’ll have a horrible job catching him if he gets away. Gerbils are fast. And sneaky.”
“He has funny feet.” Misty huddled over the squirming bundle, which quickly settled in her lap.
“You two are so much alike,” Gracie murmured.
“She might have my way with animals, but she’s also got your touch. She knows exactly how to hold it. Look.”
While Gracie watched her daughter, Dallas watched Gracie, relishing her pure clear skin, the sheen of her blue eyes, the way her delicate ankles peeked beneath the hem of her skirt. A rush of pride surged through him.
A gorgeous wife, a beautiful daughter.
So why couldn’t he remember?
“It’s getting late. I think we should go.”
He blinked, returning to reality. “You’re right. We’ll have to wait for the attendant to come back, though.”
Gracie peered at him with those wise eyes. “Thank you,” she said quietly.
“For what?”
“I know what you were doing, Dallas. I can see how quickly she adapts to new surroundings. I saw how she lost her confidence when I interfered. I get it, okay?”
“I wasn’t trying to hurt you,” he murmured, touching her cheek. “I only want the best for Misty.”
“I know.”
With the animals returned to their homes and Misty tidied up, they walked back to the truck.
“How about an ice cream?”
“Yes!”
“Only if we eat it outside,” Gracie agreed. “I don’t want my truck full of sticky fingers.”
They were halfway through the door of the ice cream shop when it hit him.
“It’s melting too fast. Look at me, Dallas.” Gracie laughed up at him, her face a blend of strawberry-pink, pistachio-green and Dutch chocolate. “How do you like being married to a clown?”
“I like it quite a lot,” he said, kissing her.
“Dallas?” The fingers pressing into his arm chased away the memory. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” He struggled to catch the images, extend them, but they dissipated in the warm afternoon.
“You remembered something. What was it?”
“You. With your face plastered in ice cream.” It had been Gracie, but the giggles, the twinkling eyes, the joy filling her voice—that had been a different person.
“Strawberry here.” He touched her nose. “Pistachio here.” Her cheek. “And chocolate right here.” His fingers lingered against her chin. “You were laughing.”
She studied him for several seconds before her blue eyes got very shiny and she turned away.
“Misty’s waiting.”
She missed him. Dallas was sure of it. That glimmer of sadness…Gracie missed her husband.
The knowledge erupted inside him in a burst of joy and triumph. For the first time, he actually felt wanted. It was just one memory, but maybe—
“What kind of ice cream can I have?” Misty was asking.
He read every label so she could choose her favorite. Then he ordered gigantic cones for himself and Gracie, and led his ladies outside to an unoccupied picnic table.
“For you, madam,” he said, bowing at the waist as he handed Gracie the triple scoop.
“I can’t eat all this,” she said, but her eyes sparkled as she noticed the flavors he’d chosen. “It’s going to drip all over me. My dress will be green and pink and brown.”
“Sorry,” he murmured.
But he wasn’t sorry. Not at all.
Chapter Eight
Dallas was back.
Somehow Gracie hadn’t expected that shared parenthood would involve so much togetherness. But lately every time she turned around he was nearby. Watching her. Touching her.
“I need the socks with the teddy bears on them, Dallas,” Misty was saying. “These aren’t the right ones.”
“How do you know?”
“Because I can feel the ball at the back. They’re not Sunday socks.”
Dallas was a terrific father. Patient, gentle, encouraging—maybe too encouraging, but Misty wasn’t suffering. He didn’t wait to be asked to do something. The nights he sat with Misty, the house was clean and tidy when Gracie got home. He’d taken to mowing the grass, cleaning the pool. Even weeding her flower beds, something Gracie quickly put an end to. Dallas was great with animals, but flowers were not his forte.
“That’s not the way to tie a dress,” Gracie said.
“Well, it’s my way.”
Gracie chuckled. Dallas had a way of putting his touch on everything. Their toaster had been replaced with one Misty could manage on her own. The cabinets all had tags Misty used to identify what was where. Daily her little girl grew more independent. And that was good.
Not easy. Never easy to watch your baby tumble, but so wonderful to watch her pick herself up and try again.
Gracie could almost let go of the fear.
But then Elizabeth would call them into her office with a progress report on their search for Dallas’s parents. What would happen when they returned?
This morning Gracie caught herself wondering how she and Misty would manage when Dallas left. He had become an integral part of their lives now. She was beginning to depend on him, to ask his opinion.
Regrets. Gracie couldn’t stem them. She wished Dallas had been there to see Misty when she first smiled, took her first step; to share that earthshaking moment when she’d said her first words. Gracie ached, knowing those precious times could never be recaptured.
Which was why she’d decided to allow him to spend Sunday afternoons alone with Misty. He was right—they needed time together, and Gracie could no longer deny him those few precious hours. This past Sunday she’d deliberately stayed away, though it had been hard.
To combat her loneliness, Gracie had decided to join the ladies’ Bible study Pastor Mike had told her about.
“Come on, you two. It’s getting late,” she said now.
Misty came laughing into the kitchen, one shoe on one shoe off. Dallas quickly followed, hair ruffled, dark eyes glowing with love.
Gracie lifted her daughter onto a chair. “Let’s get this shoe on.”
“My job, Mommy.” Dallas drew her hands away, planted a kiss on her lips, then bent over Misty’s shoes.
“Why are you always kissing Mommy, Dallas?”
Gracie gulped, saw his hands freeze on the silver buckles.
“Because I like to.”
“Does she like it?”
Dallas winked at Gracie, his grin stretching wide. “Uh, I think you’ll have to ask her that. In private,” he warned, when Misty’s pink lips popped open.
“Why?”
“Because it’s personal. Maybe your mommy doesn’t want me to know she likes me kissing her.” He fast
ened the last buckle, then straightened, grasped Gracie’s shoulders. “I think I should check it out for myself,” he murmured.
She didn’t get her protest out before his lips touched hers. By then it was too late. All common sense left her in a rush.
“That’s a long time to kiss her. She must know by now,” Misty squeaked.
Gracie smothered a laugh.
“You’d think so, wouldn’t you?”
“Well, are you finished? Are we going now?”
“Yes, we are. Don’t forget your backpack, Miss. You’ll need it later.” Dallas waited until Missy had skipped from the room. “You’re sure you don’t want to come, Gracie? You might like it.”
“You always come back filthy. I’m quite sure I wouldn’t like it at all.” She slipped out of his arms, grabbed her handbag. “Besides, I’m going to be busy this afternoon. I’ll just drop you off and pick you up later.”
“You can’t work all the time. Why don’t you take a break by the pool? I’ll serve you lunch before we go if you want.”
“No, thanks.” She almost laughed at the curious gleam in his eye.
“Care to share?”
“No, thanks.”
He’d gloat. Dallas had been talking about God ever since she’d found him. If he knew she was going to a Bible study class he’d be exultant, and Gracie didn’t want that. She needed to understand some things, figure out if she could trust God again before she talked about it with Dallas.
“Hmm, secrets, huh? Okay then. Ready?” He held out his hand and she took it.
She wasn’t ready to completely trust her husband. Not yet. But she was beginning to learn.
“We had hamburgers and fries and a sundae, and I went for a ride on a pony.”
“What?”
“A toy pony.” Dallas nipped that outburst in the bud but it was clear Gracie was upset.
“Did you ever have a sundae on Sunday, Mommy?”
“Not for a while. Let’s get you into the bathtub now.”
“But my toy! I want to play with Dallas and my toy.”
“First we need to clean you up. Then dinner. Then bed.”
“I don’t want bed. I want to play with Dallas.”
“I can do it, Gracie.”
She shot him a look. “Yes, you can. And you should.” She turned her back on him and headed for the pool area.
Dallas teased and cajoled until Misty was tucked up in bed, eyes drooping closed as he sang her to sleep.
“Sweet dreams, darling.” He kissed her, checked to be sure everything she might trip on was off the floor, then left the room, drawing the door almost closed. The monitor was gone. Gracie must have it.
Gracie.
A picture of her pinched face came to him. The way she’d sat perched behind the wheel, waiting for them…Something was wrong.
He opened the French door and stepped onto the patio.
Gracie was not in the pool. She was seated on a chair.
“I’m really sorry it took us so long, Gracie. Misty was having such a good time and I hated to tear her away—”
“Of course she was having a good time,” she said quietly, visibly summoning her patience. “You make sure of that, stuff her with all the foods her ogre mother won’t let her have, treat her to toys and rides, anything her heart desires.”
“It wasn’t anything.” He bristled, trying not to sound defensive.
“Did you tell her no even once, Dallas?”
He hadn’t.
“Why should I feel guilty for that? I missed the last five years, Gracie.”
“So now you’re making up for them? And then what?” A tear dangled from her lashes, then plopped onto her thin cheek. “What am I supposed to do when you go, Dallas?”
“When I go?” Cold hard fear balled up inside him. She was sending him away? “I’m not leaving just because you’re jealous, Gracie.”
“Jealous?” She stared at him as if dazed. “Is that what you think?” She shook her head, strands of bright hair grazing her lips. “I am not jealous of you, Dallas. I’m concerned about Misty. What will happen when you leave here and there isn’t someone to make a fuss over her all the time, to give her whatever she demands? How will she understand that I can’t do that?”
He didn’t get this. “You don’t want me to buy her ice cream?”
“I don’t want you to play weekend daddy whenever I’m not around. I don’t want you to make her think that I’m the bad parent and you’re the good one.” Tears littered her cheeks now.
Dallas found a chair, sank into it.
“I just want her to love me,” he whispered.
“Misty does love you, Dallas. She thinks you’re superhuman, that you can do anything. You don’t have to buy her love with a new present every time she asks for something.” Gracie leaned forward, her face strained, white. “Maybe I do try too hard to keep her safe, but you’re making it worse. You swoop in and suddenly Misty doesn’t have any rules she has to obey. Then you bring her back here and I’m the disciplinarian and she hates me.”
Dallas saw himself through Gracie’s eyes. Dazzling Misty; laying a guilt trip on Gracie so she’d let go her controls; learning braille so he could impress his wife and daughter with his brilliance; encouraging Misty to try new things.
“She’s a little girl, Dallas. One who wants to love and be loved, just like every other child. She needs parents who provide love and stability and boundaries. She has to learn that the world won’t revolve around her.”
In other words, stop trying to impress her and start acting like a father.
“I’m sorry, Gracie,” he exclaimed, humbled by her wisdom. “I didn’t mean to bowl her over. It’s just—”
She smiled.
“I know. You love her. I do, too. But when you leave, I don’t want her to feel abandoned.”
“Gracie, honey…” He knelt in front of her. “I promise you that Misty will never feel abandoned by me. But you should know that I’m not leaving. For as long as you are here, I will be, too. If Elizabeth fires me, I’ll get a job in Dallas, but I will not leave you. Do you understand?”
“But—”
He shook his head, placed his hand over her lips.
“Never. I promise.”
“You can’t promise that, Dallas. You don’t know the future.”
He gathered her hands in his, threaded their fingers together.
“I know that I made a vow to you and to God to love you until death parted us. I will honor that vow, Gracie. For as long as I live I will honor our marriage commitment. Nothing, no matter what it is, will make me leave this ranch until you ask me to go.”
He saw the doubt filling her eyes, knew she believed he was only saying the words.
“But your memory…”
“Doesn’t matter. I won’t break that promise.” He rose, drew her into his arms, wanting, needing to seal this promise in a way she couldn’t forget.
“I don’t think we should—”
“I do.” He brushed his lips against her forehead, slid them to her earlobe. “I really do,” he said, nuzzling her neck.
“Dallas, I—”
“I really, really do,” he whispered one last time. Then he stopped her from saying anything more.
Even if his mind didn’t remember Gracie, his heart did. Remembered the way her arms looped around his neck, the way her fingers combed through his hair, reveling in their love. His heart remembered that soft sweet sigh she made when the kiss was over, the way she leaned against him, let him bear her weight, if only for a moment.
As he cradled Gracie in his arms, Dallas knew he loved her.
I love Gracie Henderson.
He couldn’t say it. Not yet. It was too soon.
“I’ll be here, Gracie. For as long as Misty needs me. I promise.”
It didn’t come out the way he wanted. Gracie eased back from him, until she stood two feet away. Her face looked sad.
“There can’t be any more for us, Dallas.”
>
“Why?” How deeply those words cut.
“It’s too soon. You’re still a novelty to Misty. You didn’t even remember your own name.”
“That doesn’t mean—”
Gracie shook her head. “I know what it’s like to be left alone, to feel like nobody loves you.” Shadows crept into her eyes. “I won’t let Misty feel that. She comes before us. She has to.”
“I know.”
But he ached to tell Gracie he loved her, ached to bring the light back into her eyes. Still, Dallas knew she would think he was just trying to salve her ego.
And he wasn’t certain she’d ever believe him, if he didn’t get his memory back.
He wanted—needed—Gracie’s love.
Please heal me, he prayed.
The meeting took place six days later in Elizabeth Wisdom’s office.
Gracie shuffled from one foot to the other to combat her growing apprehension. She couldn’t look away from Dallas’s expectant gaze.
“What is it, Sheriff?” Gracie asked.
“I received word that Mr. and Mrs. Henderson, Sr., have been located. They have been living in Australia for the past few months. I’ve been informed they will return stateside as soon as they are able to make arrangements.”
Gracie swallowed, searching for moisture for her parched mouth. Would tomorrow be the only Father’s Day Gracie would celebrate with both parents? she wondered.
“Thank you for all your help,” Elizabeth was saying. She ushered the sheriff out, as if she sensed Dallas and Gracie needed a moment to absorb the information.
“My parents are coming.” Dallas looked stunned.
A throb of fear tried to surface, but Gracie heard her Bible study leader’s voice: “Faith is an action, something you choose to do.”
God, are You there? Can I trust You?
“You must be excited,” she said tentatively.
“I don’t know how I feel. I never imagined…I don’t even know what they look like.”
“I’m sorry, I don’t have a picture.”
He’d already pored over the ones she did have, pried details from her that Gracie had shared with no one else—sad little bits of her history with her father, how alone she felt, unloved. The one thing she hadn’t shared was his parents’ rejection of her and Misty. Dallas was so open and loving. She couldn’t hurt him by revealing their past actions. What good would it do? She had to focus on the future.