A Cowboy’s Honor

by Lois Richer

  She closed her eyes, savoring the moment as she covered his hand with hers.

  “Oh, Gracie.”

  She almost didn’t hear the broken whisper. He lifted her palm to his mouth and pressed a kiss in the center before curling her fingers around it.

  “Why did you do that?”

  “Because sometimes I need to touch you.”

  His stark answer blazed a path straight to her heart. She needed him, too. Needed to lean on his strength for a while, let him take control. Needed to share things with him, laugh with him, cry with him. She needed Dallas to help build the family she longed for.

  “Why are you up so early?” she asked, noting a change in his demeanor.

  “Elizabeth woke me. She had a call from my parents. I went on her computer, saw them, thanks to her Web camera. We talked for a bit.”

  Gracie froze, her breath strangled by fear’s tentacles.

  “My mom had a bit of a medical setback on the way to Canberra. They’re clearing that up before they travel here. Nothing serious, apparently, but it’s going to take more time before we’re reunited.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  It was an automatic response, tinged by relief that for a little longer Misty and Dallas would be hers alone.

  “It’s okay.” Disappointment sagged his broad shoulders. “I didn’t recognize them, you know.” The light in his eyes vanished. “I’m not sure why I thought I would.”

  She ached to gather him close, ease his hurt. But the fence and fear separated them.

  “Maybe when you see them in person things will be different.”

  “Yeah. Maybe.” He shook off the gloom, leaned over the fence and brushed her lips with his. “I’d better get going. See you in a bit, Gracie, love.”

  “Yes. See you.”

  As she watched him walk away, the verse Gracie had read over and over through the predawn hours returned with startling clarity.

  “I am leaving you with a gift—peace of mind and heart. And the peace I give isn’t fragile like the peace the world gives. So don’t be troubled or afraid.”

  “I will not be afraid,” she whispered. “Help me not be afraid.”

  “Mommy! Aren’t you coming?”

  “Yes, darling. I’m on my way.”

  Gracie retrieved her Bible and her coffee cup and walked into the house with new purpose. She couldn’t handle the fear on her own.

  But she didn’t have to.

  God would help. All she had to do was trust Him.

  He thought his chest would burst with pride.

  Misty’s pure, clear voice carried around the church like a bell as she sang about a father’s love.

  They’d talked about how to combat her nervousness. “You sing right to me, Miss. Forget everybody else. Okay?”

  “Yes, Daddy.”

  Gracie’s slim hand slid into his and squeezed tightly as Misty soared through her final notes. The congregation sighed. Then the choir chimed in and the cantata proceeded. There were four soloists in all, but their daughter was the best. And when the service was finally dismissed, Dallas couldn’t help basking in the congratulations everyone offered.

  “I’m her father,” he told an old woman who was chatting with Misty.

  “You’re a very fortunate man, then.”

  “Yes, I am.” He lifted Misty into his arms and hugged her so tightly she protested. “You were great, Miss.”

  “Did you like your song, Daddy?”

  “I loved it. I wish I’d thought to borrow a video camera and record it.”

  “Miss Craft had someone record the cantata. We can buy a copy from her.” Gracie brushed a smudge of dust from Misty’s face. “It was really lovely, honey.”

  She wiggled, wanting to be put down. Dallas let her go, winced at the emptiness of his arms.

  “It was a good test, Mommy,” the little girl said, her smile wide. “Now I know what I want to do.”

  “What’s that?”

  “I want to learn how to ride a horse. I want to go on the trail ride.”

  Dallas watched the color leach from Gracie’s beautiful face. But she smiled as she said, “That’s good, sweetie.”

  He slid an arm around her waist, squeezed to show his support.

  “I’m starving,” he said. “How about if I take my girls to lunch? A celebration for Misty’s new singing career.”

  “No!” Misty glanced at her mother for guidance.

  “I think we should go back to our place,” Gracie murmured.

  “Okay.” Dallas sensed some secret message passing between the two. “Let’s go.”

  As Gracie drove them back to the ranch, he watched her. She answered Misty’s never-ending questions absently, her attention obviously elsewhere.

  “I think it’s time I saw somebody about getting my license back,” he said as he held out a hand to help Gracie from the truck. Misty had already scurried inside. “Thanks to the sheriff and Elizabeth and all the paperwork we filled out I’ve got my identity back, but apparently I have to retake the driving test.”

  “Do you remember driving?” Gracie asked as they walked toward the open front door.

  “No.” But suddenly he did. A sports car, with the top down. Gracie was laughing beside him, her hair streaming in the wind as she held up one hand. A gold circlet glittered on her ring finger.

  “Dallas?”

  “Yeah?” He shook his head. She was holding the door, waiting for him. “Did I used to own a red sports car?”

  “You rented one once.”

  Gracie moved to the kitchen. Her tone didn’t invite more questions, but he couldn’t let it go. “Was it around the time we were married?”

  She paused, twisted to look at him. “Yes.”

  “I had this flash of it. We were riding in the car. You were holding your hand up. You wore a gold band.” He stared at her bare finger.

  “My wedding ring,” she said, so quietly he had to lean close to hear. “I took it off a couple of years ago. I didn’t think you were coming back.”

  Shouldn’t she have come looking for him once more, before she gave up?

  “Surprise! Happy Father’s Day, Daddy.”

  Only then did Dallas realize that Misty, with Gracie’s help, had made special plans to celebrate his day. If his heart had been full before it almost burst now as she pulled open the patio door, indicating the table outside, fully set.

  “It looks beautiful.” He mouthed a thank-you to Gracie over Misty’s head as he hugged his child. “Did you do all this?”

  “Mommy helped.” She pulled out a chair. “You have to sit here. It’s the father’s place. What do I do now, Mommy?”

  “I think we should cook the hamburgers. Maybe Dallas could do that while I bring out the other food.”

  “Sure.” He stepped onto the deck, lit the grill.

  Gracie returned inside. Misty hopped across the bricks toward him.

  “I’m glad you’re my daddy,” she said. “Rory doesn’t got a daddy.”

  “That’s too bad.”

  “Yeah.” Misty shrugged. “I gave him a hug. I know what it feels like not to have a daddy. It’s lonely.”

  Dallas gathered her close, sank down on one of the chairs while they waited for the grill to heat.

  “I’m sorry I couldn’t be here for all of the other Father’s Days, Misty. I wanted to be but I just couldn’t remember.”

  “I know. It’s okay.” She fiddled with his tie. “When do you think I’ll take my first riding lesson?”

  From the corner of his eye, Dallas saw Gracie in the doorway, carrying a tray. She stopped suddenly, rattling some of the things on it.

  “I don’t know. Maybe after lunch we could go ask Emily about it.”

  “Can’t you teach me to ride a horse?”

  “I don’t know if I’ve ever taught anyone to ride. We’ll ask Mommy after lunch. Okay?”

  “Okay.” She wiggled out of his lap and scurried off toward the fence, humming the song she’d sung ea
rlier.

  “Is everything all right?” Dallas lifted the tray from Gracie’s hands, set it on the table.

  “Yes, thanks.” She forced a smile but it didn’t reach her eyes.

  Something was wrong.

  There was no time to discuss whatever it was during lunch, and after they’d cleaned up, Misty insisted on visiting Emily, who advised them that Misty could join the class the very next day.

  Emily pulled Dallas aside after their chat. “You could help her by getting her used to the animals. The kids learn much quicker if they’ve had some exposure to the horses and aren’t afraid.”

  As they started back to the house, Misty hung on to her parents’ hands, swinging between them. “I’m going to be behind the other kids,” she mumbled. “They’ve been taking riding lessons for a long time.”

  “Why don’t we stop and check on Lady?” Dallas watched Gracie, but she kept her mask of control firmly in place.

  “Can we, Mommy?”

  “I guess.”

  At the paddock where the horse was corralled, Dallas stuck his thumb and finger in his mouth and whistled. The mare trotted over, ears perked.

  “Hello, pretty Lady,” he murmured, brushing his hand over her nose. “If you speak to them carefully and gently, horses aren’t afraid, Miss.”

  “I know Patch was afraid when I was feeding him grass, but I didn’t think Lady would be afraid. Lady sounds lots bigger, Daddy.” Misty chewed on her bottom lip as if she were working a puzzle in her mind. “Are you sure Lady was afraid?”

  “Pretty sure, honey. That’s why I didn’t want you two to meet until I made sure Lady knew we wanted to be friends. Sometimes people are mean to them, and horses have very good memories. They’re very careful about who they trust. Here, you can pet her neck.” He guided her hand there.

  “Hello, horsey. My daddy says your name is Lady. Mine’s Misty. Oh!” She giggled as the horse nuzzled her hand. “Why’s she doing that, Daddy?”

  “She’s looking for a treat. Lady likes carrots as much as you liked those fudge brownies your mom made. But Lady’s not allowed to have chocolate,” he cautioned. “It would make her very sick. Horse tummies can’t have brownies.”

  “I want to feed her a carrot.”

  “Keep your voice down, Miss. Horses like it better if you don’t make sudden moves or loud noises around them. Lady has to learn to trust you, just like you have to learn to trust her.”

  The way your mom has to learn to trust me.

  “Can I please have a carrot, Daddy?” Misty whispered in exaggerated tones.

  “I’ll go get one. You stay with Dal—Daddy.” Gracie offered him a quick smile, then hurried toward her office, where she kept a small bag of carrots in the medicine fridge.

  His heart did a two-step when she turned at the door, stared at him with those sky-blue eyes.

  Please let us be a family soon. Please let her love me as much as I love her.

  Chapter Ten

  Gracie felt like a schoolgirl on her first date.

  Nervous. Giddy. Hopeful.

  Scared.

  Which was utterly ridiculous.

  She was married to the man!

  But Dallas had asked Gracie to have dinner with him tonight, after Rory had shown up to invite Misty to eat at his place. And since this would be Gracie’s first date with Dallas in six years, she was on tenterhooks, wondering what he expected from it.

  “Dinner is served, madam.”

  Her husband bowed at the waist like the butler at Elizabeth’s ancestral ranch home. Gracie had visited her there, on the other side of Dallas, several times, and left intimidated by the grandeur of the place. Thankfully, the Bar None was nothing like that. Her little house certainly wasn’t, despite Dallas’s acting.

  Gracie sat on the chair he held out for her, let him spread her napkin in her lap.

  “It’s Father’s Day. I should be cooking dinner for you.”

  “I’ll take you up on that next year.” His gaze promised her a future.

  Dallas cleared his throat, continued. “On the menu tonight we have shrimp cocktail, a garden salad with raspberry dressing, roast chicken, whipped potatoes, French-style green beans and a savory gravy. The dessert is my surprise.”

  “Sounds lovely.” She waited until he returned with the shrimp and sat down. “I had no idea you could cook like this.”

  “I’m not sure I can. But the mess hall cook owed me a favor and I decided it was time for payback.” He grinned, winked. “Go ahead. Try it.”

  He’d dressed the patio table with one of her good cloths, chosen glassware over Misty’s usual plastic, and selected Gracie’s mom’s two remaining china dinner plates. In the center of the table he’d placed a bowl of wild roses he’d picked on the way back from the visit with Lady, a visit Rory had interrupted.

  “It looks really lovely, Dallas. Thank you.”

  He reached for her hand. “Shall I say grace?”

  She nodded, unable to speak.

  “Lord, we thank You for this beautiful day, for Your love and for Misty. Help her to have a good time with Rory and help us enjoy these gifts You’ve given us. In Jesus’s name.” Dallas kissed Gracie’s fingertips, then let her hand go.

  In the background the soft sounds of her favorite guitar music broke the silence.

  “It seems I know this song.” Dallas tilted his head, hummed a few bars.

  “You should. She’s your favorite guitarist. The CD is one you bought.”

  “Oh.” He listened a moment longer, then picked up his fork. “Bon appetit.”

  “Do you think Misty’s okay? She hasn’t spent much time in new places—”

  “Misty’s fine, Gracie.”

  She wondered if Dallas was impatient with her. He didn’t look angry.

  “That sun still has a lot of heat,” he stated. “I’m glad we’ve got a bit of shade here. And it’s the perfect spot to watch the sunset.”

  “The sunsets here are spectacular,” she agreed. “The summer evenings aren’t nearly as long as they were at home, though. It used to stay light till almost ten o’clock on the longest day.”

  “Do you miss North Dakota?”

  “Sometimes. I had some good friends there who helped me through the rough parts.”

  “And your father?”

  Why was he asking questions about the past?

  “He was a hard man. We didn’t always agree. Maybe we were too much alike.”

  “Did you love him?”

  Gracie froze, her fork dropping against her plate with a loud ping. “I tried,” she whispered finally, pushing away the tears. “He didn’t seem to want it.”

  “I pity him, then. I think that love is a precious commodity and you should take every morsel that’s offered. Finished with that?”

  “Yes. Thanks. It was delicious.” She watched him carry their dishes to the kitchen, return with salad.

  “I added a couple of things myself. Can you guess what?”

  “Dill. Parsley? And lots of onion.”

  “How did you know?”

  “The cook never uses onion in the salad because so many kids won’t eat it.” Gracie lifted an eyebrow. “And besides, you always used to love onion in your salad.”

  Dallas grinned. “Still do. Did we eat out much?”

  Just when she got comfortable, he shot out these questions about the past.

  “In Dallas, yes. Turtleford was a little town. There weren’t many places to go. Besides, I usually cooked for my dad when I was home.”

  “Did you like school?”

  “Yes.”

  “But all that ended when Misty came along.”

  “Yes, but I went back to school, finished my classes and got my degree, though it took me longer. Besides, I don’t begrudge anything for Misty.” Worry nudged its way in again. “I hope she’s doing all right. Sometimes she doesn’t—”

  “She needs other people in her life, Gracie. And we need time together, too. If a problem arises, we’ll
deal with it. Okay?”

  Shame rushed through her. He was trying so hard to build their relationship, and he had no memories, nothing to go on. Didn’t he ever worry?

  “Sorry.” She lifted her glass. “To your great cooking.”

  He clinked his against it, chuckled. “Yeah. I chop a mean dill stalk, lady.”

  A comfortable silence lingered between them for a while. Gracie eventually broke it with small talk, with sharing. It was easier than she’d thought.

  “I wonder if I should think about voice lessons for Misty. Until I heard that solo this morning, I never realized how good she is.”

  “Elizabeth might know someone.” Dallas carried in their salad plates, returned with the main course, then sat down once more. He lifted his fork, touched the potatoes, but paused. “What happened to you this morning in church, Gracie?”

  “I don’t know what you mean.”

  “After the service. Misty talked about the trail ride and you froze like an icicle. I thought you were ready to let her try riding.”

  “I am.” Gracie gulped, sipped some water to moisten her parched throat. “But…”

  “Tell me. I’ll help if I can,” he promised, leaning across the table to stroke his fingers over her forearm.

  “The trail ride,” she blurted.

  “If you’re that much against it—”

  “I’m not exactly thrilled, but I recognize that I can’t stand in her way anymore, as you so adequately pointed out.” Gracie glanced down, watched his fingers thread through hers. She lifted her lids, met his compassionate gaze. “I won’t be the reason she’s afraid. I’m trying to trust God.”

  His fingers pressed hers. “Good for you.”

  “But…I can’t go with her.”

  “Sure you can. Other parents will be going along.” He paused, made a face. “Oh, you mean because you can’t ride.”

  “I would learn to ride if it meant I could go with her. But the certification board will be here that day, Dallas. As the resident vet I have to be around to answer any questions, show my qualifications and whatever else they want. It’s a stipulation the state makes as part of the process to grant Elizabeth’s permanent license for this place. There’s no way I can ask for the day off to go on a trail ride.”