Only You

by Peg Sutherland

  “This was none of my idea,” Floretha insisted. “I don’t want to leave the house I’ve been in over fifty years.”

  Sandra frowned. “It’s time, Mama. Dillon, I didn’t want to hit you with any more right now, but I thought this was the best time.”

  “Sure,” Dillon said. “I understand.” But he’d never known Weddington Farms without Floretha. It was as if he were losing all of his family at once.

  “Come on, Mama. They’ve got things to talk about.”

  They left Dillon facing Angie. He was terrified of what would happen next. “I guess that just leaves us unsettled,” he said.

  “It seems that way.”

  “You waiting for me to start?”

  “Yes.”

  “I can’t say I like your stepfather—”

  “Your father,” Angie corrected.

  “Okay, my father. But I’m willing to try. As much as you love him, he must be a pretty decent guy.”

  “He is, Dillon. I know you’ll love him if you just let yourself.”

  “I’ll give it a shot, but only if you’ll marry me.”

  “Are you trying to blackmail me?”

  “I’ll try anything that works.” He took her hand. She didn’t pull away. It gave him hope that everything would be all right in the end. “You said I’d ruined any chance we had.”

  She smiled slightly. “Well, some of us get over our anger. If we see that people really want to change.”

  “I do.” Dillon wasn’t sure he had the courage to proceed, despite her nod. Maybe he could stall a bit longer. “Do you still want your equestrian center?”

  “I’m not sure. I—”

  “Would you if you could have it here? There’s more than enough land for a farm and horses.”

  “Now you’re trying to bribe me.”

  He smiled. “If Christine is going to be the best rider in the state, she’s got to have the best training facilities around. And the best teacher.”

  “Are you going to work with Dad and Harper?”

  “No. The mill is their baby. This place can be ours.”

  “Are you sure about all this?”

  “The thing I’m most sure about is that I love you and want you to be my wife. Do you think you could be ready for another wedding by the time Trent and Mom get back?”

  Angie smiled. “Is that an official proposal?”

  “It’s a repeat,” Dillon said. “I made the official one at the competition with Mrs. Anthony listening to every word.”

  He held out his arms. Angie stepped into his embrace. “I wanted you to have time to reconsider. You were under a great deal of stress at the time.”

  “I’ve been under stress ever since I can remember,” Dillon replied. “I’m counting on you to help me get rid of it.”

  “That sounds like an indecent proposal to me.”

  He laughed. “Considering what I’ve been wanting to do to you for days, it’s damned decent.” He sobered quickly. “You know I didn’t mean what I said before. I was angry and hurt. I know that’s no excuse. I can’t promise I won’t say something mean again— I’ve got a hasty temper—but I can promise I’ll love you no matter what ill-considered words come out of my mouth.”

  Angie’s smile told him he was forgiven. She kissed him lightly.

  “I was thinking it might be a good idea for us to go away for a while. From what you said, everything here has been in a ferment ever since Christine came to live with you. Maybe going away would help relieve some of that pressure.”

  “How could I turn down an invitation like that?”

  Dillon had almost forgotten how sweet it could be to hold the woman he loved in his arms. He could have sat next to Angie doing nothing more than holding her for a long, long time.

  But he was grateful there was to be more.

  HER INSIDES SHAKING with fear, Christine ran up to her room, grabbed Mrs. Stuart and dived behind the curtain. They were leaving her. Everybody was leaving—Grandma Harper, her new granddaddy and Floretha.

  And now Angie was taking her daddy away from her.

  They had all promised they loved her, that they would never leave her. But they were. Nobody loved her anymore, nobody except Mrs. Stuart.

  After everybody left, somebody would come to take her away to a new place, someplace where she didn’t know anybody, someplace where nobody loved her. She wouldn’t go. She would hide where they could never find her. Then she would never have to leave the farm.

  NIGHT WAS FALLING when they realized Christine was missing.

  Dillon dispatched everyone to separate parts of the house in search of his daughter, but after every inch of the house had been searched, she was still nowhere to be found.

  “She’s just hiding,” he said, trying to mask his uneasiness. “She does that when she gets upset.”

  “But why would she be upset?” Angie asked, worry clouding her face. “I thought she was delighted to have a new grandfather.”

  “I don’t think she counted on Harper moving out.”

  “Then there’s Floretha.”

  “I didn’t even think about that,” Dillon said. “I was so busy thinking about us—”

  “Me, too,” Angie admitted.

  They left the house then. When he saw how dark it was growing, Dillon felt his first moment of real fear. What if they didn’t find her before dark?

  They saw the barn door standing open and the light on before they got there. The saddle lay on the ground and the door to Eddie’s stall stood open, but the pony was still inside. Dillon closed the stall door and picked up the saddle, returning it to the rack almost without thinking. “Where could she have gone?”

  “Let’s check Duchess’s pasture.”

  “Come on. I know a shortcut.”

  As long as he’d thought Christine was hiding in the house he’d been certain they would find her. But if she was upset enough to run away from the house in the dusk, she could have gone anywhere. There was no telling what could happened to her! There were several drainage ditches that were too deep for her to climb out of by herself. And some of them were full of water. They’d found a nest of water moccasins only last month.

  It bothered him that he’d been so preoccupied with what was happening to him that he’d forgotten to look at all the changes from Christine’s point of view. It was perfectly understandable that the child would be upset, and he’d never taken the time to even think about it.

  He wondered if he was ever going to be a good father. Every time he managed to get something right, he stumbled into another big screwup. It just might be possible that Christine would be better off with her grandparents.

  No. Whatever he had to do, no matter how he had to change, he was going to make damned certain the best place for his daughter was with him and Angie. He understood what it meant to be an only child. He was surrounded by them—Harper, Angie, Trent, Evelyn, Christine and even Sandra. They’d all gone through life holding on tight for fear they would lose the only person they had. He hoped he and Angie could have at least a half a dozen children. It would be wonderful to be able to pour his love into so many vessels.

  “She must have been very frightened to have run away at night,” Angie said. “We should have realized that—”

  “I should have realized,” Dillon stressed.

  The pasture looked empty when they arrived. Duchess came trotting out of the shadows when she saw Dillon. The foal came trotting behind her, not at all sure that she wanted anything to do with these humans.

  Dillon patted the old mare and talked to her in a soft, crooning voice, but he didn’t slow his stride. Duchess and the foal followed, their eyes wide with curiosity.

  They would have missed Christine if Angie hadn’t thought to shine her flashlight up into the trees. Even then it was almost impossible to see her amid the many limbs branching off from the white pine. Dillon was surprised at the immensity of his relief. He hadn’t known he could be so worried. Being a father could take an emotion
al toll he was only beginning to understand.

  “Christine.” Angie spoke first, but Christine didn’t move.

  “Floretha says it’s time for dinner,” Dillon said. “You’d better hurry before she puts it all back in the refrigerator.”

  “Floretha’s gone,” Christine said. “Everybody’s gone.”

  “Floretha and Sandra are still at the house. They’re going to move to a new house not far from here. I’ll take you there so you’ll know exactly how to find them.”

  “Grandma’s gone, too.”

  “But she’ll be back. She and Grandpa Trent will have a new house near your school. I’ll take you there, too. You’ll have houses with family in them all over town.”

  “Why can’t they stay here?”

  “When people get married, they like to have a house all by themselves.”

  “Like you and Angie? You’re going away, too. I heard you say it. Then there won’t be anybody here. It’ll be just like when Mommy left me.”

  “We’re not going to leave you,” Dillon said, feeling guilty he hadn’t thought of Christine when Angie proposed the trip. “We’re just going away for a few days. We’ll be back soon.”

  Why not take Christine? Dillon thought. She’d been under as much strain as he had. Besides, she would be a large part of his life with Angie.

  “Would you like to go with Angie and me?” he asked.

  Christine looked at Dillon and Angie, questioning.

  “We wouldn’t have much fun without you,”. Angie said.

  “Can Mrs. Stuart go?”

  “Of course,” Dillon said. “Mrs. Stuart is part of the family, too.”

  “Are you and Angie going to move?”

  “No,” Dillon said. “All three of us are going to live here together.”

  “Always?”

  “Always.”

  Until now, Christine hadn’t moved. Dillon had talked to the lacy hem of her pink dress. Now she peeped down from among the branches. “Is Angie going to stay?”

  “Always,” Angie replied. “I’m going to marry your daddy. I’ll be your mother.”

  “Mommy left me all the time.”

  “Your daddy and I are going to take care of you. We won’t ever leave you.”

  “Promise?”

  “Promise. Now I think you’d better come down. It’s hard to pack sitting in a tree.”

  “I can’t. Mrs. Stuart is scared.”

  Dillon almost laughed with relief. Finally a fear he could do something about. “Stay right where you are. I’ll come up and get you.”

  “Are you sure that tree will hold you?” Angie asked.

  “It’ll have to.”

  “I could go get her.”

  “No. This is something I have to do.”

  The limbs were flimsy, but Dillon placed his feet close to the trunk. The branches shook a lot, but they held.

  “You’re going to have to let Angie have your doll,” Dillon said when he reached Christine. “I’ve got to hold on to the tree. You’ll need both arms to hold around my neck.”

  Dillon was surprised at how readily Christine cast Mrs. Stuart to Angie. It didn’t even seem to bother her that she bounced from limb to limb before hitting the ground. She reached out to Dillon and held him tight around the neck. For a moment he was too moved to climb down. He just stayed where he was, resting against a limb that seemed none too steady and holding on to his daughter.

  For the first time, he felt that Christine wanted to be in his arms, that she trusted him. He knew he had a long way to go before she would love him with the kind of unrestrained love he had for Harper. But he’d made a beginning. His second of the day, actually. With Angie’s help, he’d do much better in the future.

  It would have been much easier if Christine had climbed on his back, but she only felt comfortable with her face buried in Dillon’s neck. He got a few scrapes he wouldn’t have gotten otherwise, but he figured they were worth it.

  When he reached the ground and Angie threw her arms around both of them, Dillon knew he was on his way home at last.

  EPILOGUE

  Christmas Eve

  CHRISTINE LAY IN HER BED and listened for the sound of reindeer hooves on the roof. Mrs. Stuart had told her in no uncertain terms that she wouldn’t hear any reindeer because there was no Santa Claus.

  Christine decided to take no chances. Mrs. Stuart had been wrong about a lot of things lately.

  “Like Grandma and Grandpa Stringfellow,” Christine whispered to Mrs. Stuart, who was snuggled under the covers with her. “You said when we went to visit at Thanksgiving that I’d never, ever want to come back.”

  But Grandma and Grandpa Stringfellow had said so many mean things about everybody that Christine had called Daddy and asked to come home early.

  “And you were wrong about wicked stepmothers, too,” Christine continued, mimicking Floretha’s sternest voice to chastise the troublesome Mrs. Stuart. “Angie is the best stepmother in the whole world. She loves me like I’ve belonged to her always.”

  Christine never got tired of Angie’s assurances. She waited for them every night when Angie tucked her into bed. And she got them, along with a hug and a kiss. She smiled drowsily and her eyes grew heavy as she remembered the ritual.

  Noise from outside startled Christine to. alertness. She wasn’t sure if it was reindeer hooves she heard, but someone was definitely outside. She jumped out of bed and ran to the window. She saw Grandma Harper and Grandpa Trent get out of their car and walk toward the house, their arms full of brightly wrapped packages that made Christine’s eyes grow wide in anticipation.

  “Presents,” she whispered reverently. “Lots and lots of presents.”

  She heard the greetings in the entrance hall, then the cheerful voices grew more distant. They had probably gone into the parlor where the giant Christmas tree twinkled and shone. Christine was too wide awake to go back to bed.

  “Let’s go watch,” she said, taking Mrs. Stuart and tiptoeing to the top of the stairs.

  If she leaned way over, she could see into the parlor. She watched everybody hug and laugh. Even Daddy and Grandpa Trent laughed together these days. She was never so happy as when everybody she loved was in the same house.

  Then she saw them pour the glasses of eggnog. Daddy wrapped his arm around Angie and pulled her close. “Mom, Trent,” he said, “Angie and I have a special present for you. It’ll be a little late, but I hope you won’t mind waiting for a second grandchild.”

  As everybody in the room exclaimed happily, Christine frowned, wondering what that meant. Then understanding dawned. “Oh, Mrs. Stuart, we’re going to have a baby!”

  A whole attic full of toys wasn’t as nice as that.

  She finally dozed off sitting right there on the stairs, saying her new name over and over again so she wouldn’t forget it. Christine Trent. Christine Trent. Everybody she loved had the same name now. Christine liked that very much.

  eISBN 978-14592-7066-4

  ONLY YOU

  Copyright © 1997 by Harold Lowry and Peg Robarchek.

  All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher, Harlequin Enterprises Limited, 225 Duncan Mill Road, Don Mills, Ontario, Canada M3B 3K9.

  All characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all incidents are pure invention.

  This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

  ® and TM are trademarks of the publisher. Trademarks indicated with ® are registered in the United States Patent and Trademark Office, the Canadian Trade Marks
Office and in other countries.

  Printed In U.S.A.