Rogue's Reform

by Marilyn Pappano

  His brother stiffened, then relaxed. “I was going to say you came close, and it’ll give her a kick. We’ll see you when you’re ready.”

  For a time after he left, Ethan merely stood there. Guthrie had passed up more than one chance to point out Ethan’s shortcomings. Ethan couldn’t remember him ever having done that before, not since they were kids. Maybe there was hope for them yet.

  But even gaining some measure of acceptance from Guthrie wasn’t going to help him with the rest of the town, or with Grace.

  Half encouraged, half discouraged, he showered, then dressed in clean clothes. He knocked at Guthrie’s door two minutes past the appointed time and received a relatively warm greeting from Elly and Emma as soon as he’d hung up his jacket.

  “Hey, Uncle Ethan, did you unnerstand my message?” Elly asked, grabbing his hand to pull him down the hall.

  “Of course I did. You’re a good artist.”

  “And clever. My teacher says so. But Emma doesn’t think I’m clever, so there!” She stuck her tongue out at her sister, then dragged Ethan into the formal dining room. “You sit here beside me, Uncle Ethan, ’cause Emma usually gets me in trouble.”

  Emma circled to the chair on the opposite side and gripped its back with both hands as she fixed a suspicious look on him. “Are you sure you figured it out, or did Daddy help you?”

  Elly slapped her palm to her forehead. “He said he got it, Em. Boy! What was there to need help with, anyway?”

  “Your chicken that didn’t look like a chicken. Your cow that didn’t look like a cow. Your silly people that were nothin’ but lines and circles and squiggly hair.”

  “He’s here, isn’t he? And it’s six-thirty, isn’t it? And he’s come to eat, hasn’t he? You’re just jealous ’cause I’m cleverer than you.”

  “Elly!” Olivia called from the kitchen. “Come wash your hands.”

  She’d started to climb onto her chair but huffed heartily and headed for the kitchen. “Why only me? Why doesn’t Emma have to wash her hands? She gets dirty, too.”

  Ethan turned back from listening to Elly to find Emma watching him. “I already washed my hands,” she announced.

  He smiled awkwardly and nodded.

  “Elly’s not so clever. She’s mostly just loud. And I draw better ’n her. And I’m not jealous.”

  “No, of course not,” he murmured, not knowing what else to say. He didn’t believe he’d ever faced a female besides his mother when he hadn’t known what to say. Elly was easy. A person didn’t have to talk to Elly, just react. But Emma was so quiet, so watchful. He felt dim-witted and tongue-tied with her.

  That was how he would feel with his own daughter if he didn’t stick around so he could know her from the start. He could all too easily imagine painful visits where she watched with suspicion while he fumbled for something to talk to her about.

  He didn’t want that with his daughter, or his niece, either. A man should know the important people in his life, should be able to carry on a conversation with them. If he didn’t, he wasn’t much of a man.

  He pulled out the chair Elly had assigned him and sat down. “What kind of pictures do you like to draw, Emma?”

  Never taking her eyes off him, she slid into her own seat. “I draw horses. I have a horse all my own. He’s a pinto named Angel. When you lived here, did you have a horse?”

  He nodded. “I had a pinto, too, named Ranger. Later, when I got too big for him, I had a paint.”

  “Uncle Easy raises the best paints in the state. He and Aunt Shay live down the road that way.” Without looking, she pointed in what Ethan would bet was the exact direction of the Rafferty ranch. “Do you know them?”

  Ethan nodded. He’d spent more than half his life jealous of Easy’s relationship with Guthrie. They’d shared a friendship stronger than any Ethan had ever known, but when it ended, it had ended hard. Of all the people who’d disappeared from Guthrie’s life in those few years so long ago— Easy, Shay, Nadine and Ethan himself—there was no doubt it was Easy he’d missed most. Ethan couldn’t even find it in him to envy that Easy and Guthrie were friends again.

  “Uncle Easy’s not our real uncle,” Emma said. “A real uncle has to be Daddy’s brother, and Uncle Easy’s not.”

  “No, but he’s as good as.”

  “As good as what?”

  “It’s a saying you use when something’s almost true. Easy’s as good as your dad’s brother.”

  “Mama says Daddy loves him better ’n a brother.”

  Ethan’s smile was thin. “I always thought so, too.”

  Fortunately, he was saved from any further conversation on the subject when Elly returned, followed closely by Guthrie and Olivia. He got to his feet, took the serving platter Olivia carried and set it on the table, then waited until she was seated on Elly’s right. Guthrie moved the last setting from the other end of the table to sit across from Ethan and next to Emma.

  Ethan didn’t miss Emma’s satisfied smile as Guthrie sat down. He wondered what it would be like to be on the receiving end of smiles like that. To be able to make a little girl happy by doing nothing more than sitting beside her. To be part of a family, with family routines and rituals.

  He wanted to find out…and was afraid to know. Afraid of being a lousy father. Of not fitting in. Of disappointing and letting down. Of earning fear instead of adoration, scorn instead of love.

  He was afraid of finding out that life could be as perfect as it was for Guthrie and Olivia, and yet still not be able to satisfy him. Still not be enough to shake the James curse.

  The meal had just ended when a knock sounded at the door. Elly was about to jump from her chair when Olivia restrained her with one hand. “Remember the rules—you don’t answer the door at night.”

  “But, Mom, this is Heartbreak, not Atlanta. We know everybody.”

  “Don’t argue with your mother,” Olivia said gently but firmly as Guthrie left the table.

  A moment later he returned, his expression grim. “It’s Reese Barnett. He wants to talk to you, Ethan.”

  Ethan’s gaze skimmed around the room. Emma looked disinterested, Olivia concerned. Elly’s eyes were opened wide, and so was her mouth. “Is Sheriff Barnett gonna arrest you, Uncle Ethan?”

  “Of course not,” Olivia answered before Ethan could even think about it. “Why would he do that?”

  “Because Uncle Ethan’s an outlaw.” Immediately she darted a look at Guthrie. “Miss Mary said so.”

  “I’m going to have a talk with Miss Mary,” Olivia said pleasantly as she stacked her dinner plate on top of Elly’s. “Take those to the kitchen for me, sweetie, then come back for the rest. Emma, why don’t you help me with the serving dishes?”

  Ethan slid his chair back, the legs scraping across the floor, then turned toward the door. He caught only a glimpse of the grim set of Guthrie’s features, but that was enough.

  Barnett was waiting just inside the front door. He’d changed clothes since this morning, but the absence of the uniform, the handcuffs and the gun didn’t make him appear any friendlier.

  Ethan stopped in front of him and shoved his hands into his hip pockets. “You wanted to see me?”

  Barnett’s gaze flickered past him, then back. “Is there someplace private we can talk?”

  If he were feeling accommodating, he would invite him to the cabin. He wasn’t. “Outside.” He waited for Barnett’s agreeing nod, then took his jacket from the coat tree and led the way onto the front porch.

  The night was quiet, the air still. Not even a whisper of a breeze disturbed the trees. Ethan walked to the top step, then turned and leaned against the railing. Barnett chose his own section of railing about halfway between him and the door.

  “I saw Grace Prescott today. She told me you were doing some work for her.”

  Ethan’s stomach knotted. “Yeah.” He forced the word out. “What of it?”

  “Why?”

  Because it was the least he could do. Because he owed
her for all the problems he’d helped cause her. Because he wanted her to think he was a better man than everyone else knew he was. Because he wanted her to make a place in her family for him, if he could prove to them both that he deserved it. Because he wanted to spend time with her.

  He had a dozen reasons—and only one he could give the sheriff. Only one that wouldn’t give their secret away, and he couldn’t give that away. Just this morning he’d told her he would support whatever lies she wanted to tell, for her sake as well as the baby’s.

  “I needed work,” he said flatly, hating the lie with a passion, “and she had work that needed doing.”

  “And that’s the only reason?”

  Ethan’s jaw tightened. “What other reason could there be?”

  “It occurred to me today that you were back last summer. What was it? Six months ago?”

  “Something like that.”

  “Actually, it was seven months, wasn’t it? Funny. That’s how far along Grace is. Seven months. That means you were in town about when it happened.”

  Knotting his fingers tightly around the rail cap, Ethan glanced the sheriff’s way. “Are you suggesting that I might be the father of Grace’s baby?”

  “I’m asking, because the timing seems mighty coincidental.”

  “Don’t you think, Sheriff, that if I’d gotten Grace Prescott pregnant, Heartbreak is the last place I’d come to? Accepting responsibility doesn’t come high on my rules to live by. Ask anyone. They’ll tell you.”

  In the dim light Barnett didn’t look completely convinced. “Do you know who the father is?”

  “Haven’t a clue. I was only here for one evening. I left early the next morning.”

  “So she really did hire you to do some painting.”

  “That, and some heavy lifting.”

  After a long, still moment, the floorboards creaked as Barnett moved to the top of the steps. “Then let me give you a bit of advice. Don’t lie to her. Don’t cheat her. Don’t take advantage of her in any way, or you’ll answer to me. Do the work she hired you for, take the money she owes you, and get the hell away from her. Don’t mess with her, Ethan, or you’ll be sorry. I promise you that.”

  Barnett descended the steps, and Ethan turned to watch him go. Long after his truck was out of sight, his warning still hung in the air. So did Ethan’s lies. He hadn’t come right out and said, No, that’s not my baby, but he’d sure as hell given that impression. No matter how he accomplished it, a lie was a lie, and this one stung. He’d denied any connection to his own child, and he felt like a bastard for it.

  Behind him, the door opened, followed by the squeak of the screen door. Guthrie come to make sure Barnett hadn’t slapped handcuffs on him?

  It was Olivia, with a quilt wrapped around her in place of a coat. She came to stand beside him, gazing out in the same direction he was. After a moment, she quietly asked, “What are we looking at?”

  He glanced at her and smiled. “Just making sure the law’s gone before this outlaw sneaks over to the cabin.”

  She turned to lean against the rail. “Everything okay?”

  “About as good as can be expected.”

  “How’s Grace?”

  “She’s having trouble reconciling her desire to protect her baby and herself with her need to not hurt anyone’s feelings.”

  Olivia tsked. “That nasty reputation of yours is getting in the way, isn’t it?”

  “Yes, ma’am. My mama used to tell me to be careful about what I did, because harm done to a good name was awfully hard to undo. Of course, my name wasn’t good to start with, but I did my best to make it worse.”

  “But that harm can eventually be undone, if you’re willing to work at it. If you’re patient. If you stick around and don’t let them scare you away.”

  “I’d like to be able to swear on my life that I’m going to stay, Olivia, but…I don’t know. In ten years I’ve never been in one place longer than seven months. I don’t know if I’ll still be here next month. I don’t even know if I’ll stick it out for another week. I don’t have any experience at that.”

  “You can learn. You can change anything if you have a good reason—and I’d say you have the two best reasons in the world.” She rearranged her quilt so her fingers were tucked inside the fabric. “When I first brought the girls here, I wanted more than anything in the world to go back to Atlanta. I promised Emma we would return the very instant I got enough money together. Even after I fell in love with Guthrie, I simply couldn’t imagine myself staying here in Heartbreak. I was a Southerner, and I was determined to go back to where I belonged.” Her voice took on a note of wonder. “And Guthrie was willing to go with me. He was willing to sell the ranch, move to Atlanta and get a regular job, just so he could be with us. Can you imagine it?”

  Ethan shook his head. Guthrie was a born rancher if ever there was one. He’d never lived anywhere but Heartbreak, rarely traveled anywhere outside the state. He loved this land and this life more than anything in the world…except Olivia and her girls.

  “You’ve done a lot of traveling. You stay in a place until you get tired or bored, and then you move on. Maybe it’s been fun, but you’ve cheated yourself, Ethan. You’ve never stayed anywhere long enough to get involved, fall in love, settle down, make friends, make a home. You don’t have any roots, and no matter how footloose and fancy-free a person is, he always needs roots.” She paused before quietly adding, “Now you’ve got a woman who needs you and a baby who’s going to love you, if you stay long enough to give them the chance. You’ve got those roots started. You just have to stay and nurture them.”

  “Maybe Grace needs someone…but she’s pretty convinced it’s not me. She doesn’t want anyone to know that I’m the baby’s father. She thinks a connection to me is more than any child should have to bear.”

  “Do you want to prove her wrong?”

  He wanted to be responsible. Respectable. A better father than his own father had been. He wanted a family of his own, wanted someone who cared about, understood and depended on him. He wanted, just once in his life, to do something he could be proud of, to be someone Guthrie could be proud of.

  “Yes,” he said quietly. “I do.”

  Olivia’s smile came quickly and was light and teasing. “Then keep those last two words in mind. And keep trying. Don’t get discouraged. Don’t give in when it gets to be too much and take off again. Make a commitment, if not to Grace, then to your baby, and do everything in your power to honor it.”

  He scoffed to disguise the bleakness he felt. “Anyone who knows me will tell you that I have no honor.”

  Olivia wriggled one hand free and laid it against his cheek. “I’m beginning to think that nobody really knows you. You only let them see what they want to see. You keep everything else locked up deep inside you. Let Grace see. Let her know you.”

  He didn’t tell her that he’d already been more honest with Grace than anyone else, that he’d told her things he’d never told anyone else. “What if I do, and she’s still ashamed?”

  “Then she’s not the woman I thought she was.”

  “Maybe I’m not the man you think I am.”

  She smiled confidently. “You’re a good man, Ethan. I have no doubt about that.”

  You’re a good man. No one had ever said that to him. That Olivia, whose life he’d helped turn upside down, could say it as if she believed it meant more to him than he could put into words. So he didn’t try. He simply wrapped his arms around her in a tight embrace.

  When he released her, he murmured, “Guthrie’s a lucky man.”

  She laughed. “Oh, darlin’, I tell him so every day. Now, you get things worked out with Grace, so she can tell you the same thing.”

  “I’ll do my best.”

  But could his best ever be good enough?

  Chapter 7

  Closing time arrived not a minute too soon on Tuesday. Grace had spent most of the afternoon fighting the overwhelming need for a nap with few c
ustomers to help her stay awake. She was counting on the walk home to revitalize her so she could work once again on the piles of stuff in the guest room. If she didn’t, she thought as she flipped the Open sign to Closed, then she would just be lazy and watch TV, because Ethan had been right Sunday. She was smart enough to realize that even God had rested.

  It wasn’t until she’d locked up and stepped away from the building that she noticed Ethan’s truck at the curb, the motor idling. Her first thought was that she would rather walk home. Her second was that she was awfully tired, and it’d been a long day, and she had spent too much of it wondering where he was and what he was doing and when he would return to finish his work at the house. She hadn’t seen him since Sunday evening and, frankly, she’d missed him. She shouldn’t, of course, not if she had good sense, but what could she say?

  Crossing the sidewalk, she opened the door and gave him a level look. “I don’t suppose you’re waiting here to offer me a ride home.”

  “Only if you don’t tell your sheriff friend. I think he plans to rearrange my face if he catches me hanging around you.”

  “I’m good at keeping secrets,” she said as she eased onto the seat.

  Immediately his expression shifted from amused to somber. “Yeah, I understand that.” As soon as she was settled, he pulled away from the curb. “Have a busy day?”

  “No, just a long one.” Striving for a casual tone, as if she were only asking to be polite and not because she cared, she asked, “What about you?”

  “I went to Tulsa to pick up some parts for Guthrie.”

  “I’ve never been to Tulsa. Sometime I’m going to go,” she remarked wistfully. Feeling his incredulous gaze on her, she flushed and darted a look at him. “I know it probably sounds stupid to you, but… My father saw no reason why my mother and I couldn’t find everything we possibly needed right here. I’ve never been anywhere but Heartbreak, except for that one trip to Buffalo Plains.” The county seat was twenty miles north of town, wasn’t much more substantial than Heartbreak and would always hold a place in her heart, because that was where she’d met Ethan, where her daughter had been conceived. But it wasn’t Tulsa.