“It’s not bad, not for him.” Sheryl gave him another squeeze at the top of the stairs and turned into his bedroom. She paused a moment in the doorway, looking at the changes made since she had slept here.
A wallpaper border decorated with rabbits ran around the room, halfway up. Elise had painted the room a pale green below the border and white above. Marla’s bed had a pale pink quilt with rabbit appliques and a green-and- white striped bedskirt. Benjamin’s crib quilt matched Marla’s except his was green. A rocking chair sat in one corner of the room. It looked cozy and inviting.
“What did this room look like when you slept in it?” Crystal asked, standing beside Sheryl as she looked it
over.
“It was just plain white,” Sheryl replied, walking to the far wall and plopping Benjamin on his change table. “I didn’t spend a lot of time here. Mostly I was in the cabin.”
Crystal handed her a clean diaper. “Are you sad about Grandpa?” she asked, leaning on the change table, her clear blue eyes gazing up at Sheryl.
“In a way,” Sheryl replied, unsnapping Benjamin’s pants, smiling at the difference between him and Lainie’s baby. “I think he’s happier now.”
Crystal sighed, wiping away a stray tear with her thumb. “I wish I could be.”
Sheryl paused, then bent over to press a kiss on Crystal’s head. “You’ll miss him a lot.”
“Do you miss him?”
Sheryl smiled down at Crystal, her sweet face blurred by unexpected tears. “Yes,” she said softly. “Yes I miss him.”
A light tap on the door made them both jump. Nate stood, almost hesitantly, framed by the doorway. “Crystal, do you mind to go find Mommy. I would like to talk to Auntie Sheryl for a minute.”
Crystal shrugged, then left. Nate watched her go, his expression melancholy. He closed the door quietly behind him, then walked over to his son.
Sheryl sensed a change in him. Anger and antagonism didn’t surround him, as it had when she’d left Since she’d come back, his overtures to her were of a tentative nature, as if unsure of how to proceed.
In his own gruff way he had been solicitous and caring. Sheryl had begun to see the side of Nate that Elise must have become attracted to.
“How are you feeling, Nate?” she asked, pinning up Benjamin’s clean diaper. She didn’t look at him as she pulled up the plastic pants and snapped his coveralls again.
“I’m okay.” Nate bent over and kissed his son, letting Sheryl pick him up. He looked up at her, and Sheryl was surprised at his expression. Pain had pulled his features down, sadness tinged the deep blue of his eyes. “How about you?”
“It’s hard. I’m just glad I could see him before—” Sheryl stopped, remembering. “I’m glad we could make some kind of amends before he died.”
Nate blew out his breath in a sigh, tapping his fingers nervously against his leg. “Sheryl, I really need to talk to you. I know now isn’t exactly the right time...” he let the sentence hang as if giving her an out.
Sheryl sat down on the rocking chair behind her, holding her nephew on her lap. Benjamin nuzzled into her, his thumb in his mouth. “It doesn’t matter, Nate.” She tried not to feel afraid, wondering what seemed to weigh so heavily on his mind that he’d followed her up here while his community and family congregated below. Outside a car started. People were beginning to leave. He should be saying goodbye. Instead he’d come up here.
Nate lowered himself to Marla’s bed, across from Sheryl. He plunged his hands through his hair, holding his head a moment, looking down at the floor.
“I don’t know where to start, what to say.” He rubbed his face, then shrugged. “I’ve been thinking about you since you left. After what you showed me.” He swallowed, loosening his tie. “I feel terrible about this, but,” he looked up at her, his eyes seeming to plead for understanding. “About a month ago I went to your cabin. I knew you had a box of papers in it and—” he hesitated “—I read your diaries. I needed to know more about you.” He pushed himself off the bed, walking over to the window, looking out of it, his voice softening. “I found out a lot about you, your mother. I got to see me and Dad through the eyes of a little scared girl who was trying to become part of a family that didn’t know what to do with a little girl. Some of what you thought was happening was wrong, but I couldn’t discredit your reaction. My own feelings weren’t exactly without prejudice.” He turned to her. “I guess I’m trying to say that Dad and I tried. We made mistakes and we pushed you too hard.”
“Please, Nate,” Sheryl whispered, overcome with emotion.
“No, I really need to tell you.” He rubbed the back of his neck, looking down. “I wish I could go back. I wish I could take what I’ve learned from my wife, my children, and use it. I know better how a family works.” He sighed and walked over to Sheryl, hunkering down beside her. He toyed with Benjamin’s hand. Sheryl felt a wave of sorrow and regret, remembering happier times with Nate, allowing those recollections to brush away the last memory she had of him, sitting in the bus depot, telling her about the letter he sent back.
“Once I thought I loved you. I read in your books how that looked to you...”
“Nate,” she whispered, “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry about the truth,” he said bitterly.
He took her hand, and Sheryl had to stop herself from pulling back, like she always did.
Nate must have felt her reaction, because his lips twisted. “When you showed me your scars, Sheryl...” He paused, biting his lip. “It hurt me to see that. I had disliked—” he laughed bitterly at that “—no, almost hated you for so long. I heard that love and hate are two sides of the same coin, and when you showed me what Jason had done to you, it was like the coin flipped again,” He stroked her hand lightly then dropped it. “I’m so sorry, Sheryl.” His voice broke and he turned away.
Sheryl sat, stunned. She didn’t know what words to use, what to say. The last time she had seen Nate his animosity was like a shield. Some sense of change had come through in Ed’s letters, but this? This was a complete reversal of everything she had dreaded coming back to face.
“I’m asking you to forgive me, like you forgave Dad,” he continued. “I don’t deserve it.”
“Please don’t say that, Nate.” Sheryl hugged her now-sleeping nephew closer. “None of us deserve the forgiveness we’ve been given, either by people or by God. I have to forgive you.”
Her stepbrother nodded. “Thanks,” he whispered. “I wish I could take away everything that happened to you, I wish I could take it on myself.”
“Nate,” Sheryl said, stopping him. “No one forced me to leave with Jason. No one pushed me out of the house. I left on my own.”
Nate nodded, turning to her. “We could have made it easier for you.” He smiled wanly. “I’d like to say we tried, but after reading your books, I can see that we failed, badly.” He hesitated, as if he had more to say. “Mark read your books, too. In fact, he was the one who told me I should look them over.”
Sheryl felt her heart skip at that, trying to picture Mark delving into her past. Why would he do that if he wasn’t interested in her?
Nate pursed his lips, staring down at his shoes, unable to meet her eyes. “I don’t know if I should be the one telling you this, but he was heartbroken after you left. He would spend hours in your cabin, sitting on the bed, reading your papers.”
Sheryl closed her eyes, imagining his large form on her bed, delving into her past, creating yet another intimacy.
Nate was quiet a moment, as if giving her time to understand what he had said.
“There’s more I need to tell you.” He slipped his hands in his pockets, leaning back against the wall behind him. “I don’t know if you’re going to stick around for the reading of the will, but you’ll find out one way or the other. Dad willed half of his share of the ranch to you.”
Chapter 15
“What?" Sheryl stared at Nate, trying to absorb what he said.
&nb
sp; “I have to confess, it wasn’t my idea.”
“How did that happen?”
Nate sighed, lifting one shoulder up. “After you left, Mark came down from the mountains. He went straight to Dad and talked to him about you and the treatment you’ve received.”
Sheryl frowned, trying to understand. “Why would he do that?”
Nate bit his lip, glancing over his shoulder as if making sure they were alone. “He wanted to make sure that you got what you deserved. But more than that, he did it because he loves you.”
“I don’t understand.” Sheryl chose to ignore the last part of what Nate had said. It seemed too wonderful.
“What am I supposed to do with a share in the ranch?”
“Well you would either get some income a month from us, or Mark was talking about giving you a lump sum to buy you out if you want.” Sheryl got up, agitated, afraid to probe too deeply the implications of what Mark had done. If she took a lump sum payment she could get her degree in three years instead of six, the way she was doing it now.
But was that what she wanted? Tory’s words came back to her. “You pretend you want to get a career when I know you’d just as soon be living at home and having babies.” Sheryl shook her head, holding the now-sleeping Benjamin closer. But babies required a husband and a husband required...everything.
“If I wanted a lump-sum payment,” she asked, her voice muffled as she laid her head against Benjamin. "What would that mean for the ranch? I thought you guys were strapped.”
Nate sighed behind her. “We are. I would be lying if I said different.”
“So...”
“Mark was going to go back to work for a few years, at least until the river-bottom land was paid off.”
Sheryl kissed Benjamin’s warm head, staring off into the middle distance, trying to imagine Mark living in the city. Pictures of him flashed through her mind—Mark on the back of a horse, driving his pickup truck too fast, balancing on a stuker, pitching bales. She pulled herself to the present, glancing at Nate. “He doesn’t want to, does he?”
Nate walked slowly around to the other side of the crib, his eyes on his son. "No, he doesn’t. But he’s willing to do it for the ranch and, well, for you.”
Sacrifice. Mark would sacrifice what he loved for her.
“Why didn’t he call?” Sheryl asked, confused. “If he loves me like you say he did, like he says he does, why did he never call me?” She laid Benjamin carefully in his crib, arranging the quilt around him, her heart beginning an erratic rhythm.
“He was afraid to.” Nate pulled the quilt around his son’s face, stroking his cheek. He sighed and looked up at Sheryl. “I’ve had to work with him the past three months. He’s been miserable, torn between wanting to chase you down and afraid that once you found out about the will you’d mistrust his motives. He knows you don’t have a high trust level of our sex.” Nate reached over and touched Sheryl’s hand. “Mark’s usually very even tempered but you’ve got him tied up in knots. Whenever we’d talk about Jason, he’d get furious. I told him about what Jason had done to you.” Nate shook his head. “He grabbed me and asked me why we let you go. I thought he was going to deck me. I’ve never seen him like this. He knows what you went through with Jason. He thinks you’re afraid of him.”
Sheryl clung to the top rail of the crib, the wood pressing into her hands, the implications of what Nate was telling her beginning to fall into place. “But I’m not. Not the way he thinks.” She looked up at Nate. “What should I do?”
He straightened, tapping the crib lightly with his fingers. “Like I said before, Mark loves you. I don’t deserve your forgiveness, but I’m thankful for it. And as for the rest, I’m leaving it in your hands, Sheryl. I don’t think you’ve had a lot of choices in the past.” He bent over, gave his son a kiss, nodded to Sheryl and left the room.
Sheryl hugged herself, restless. She walked to the window, staring out at the snow-covered yard, now full of vehicles. She easily found Mark’s silver pickup and she remembered sitting in it, sharing her life while he listened.
He loved her. She knew that now. His words, his actions, all made that very clear to her. So what should she do about it? Could she accept what he was giving her?
Sheryl touched the cold window, tracing her initials on it, just as she used to when she was younger. Sighing lightly, she let herself drift back, remembering her life with Ed and Nate, trying to fit everything in with what happened.
Somehow everything seemed to come back to Mark. Mark and Elise. They had influenced this family in so many ways, had shown them God’s love in a different way. Mark had shown her a different kind of man, a different kind of love.
A tap sounded at the door. Sheryl jumped and without turning around, knew it was Mark. With an air of resignation, she turned to face him. He wore a jacket and hat as if dressed to go outside. His cheeks were red, and as he walked toward her, Sheryl could smell the clean outdoors on him. His eyes met hers as he came closer, and Sheryl felt her breath leave her in anticipation. Her heart sped up, her limbs felt weak, and when he stopped in front of her she had to clench her fist to keep herself from reaching out to him.
His unselfish act, which clearly showed her his love, also hindered her. How would he read her reaction to it?
“Sheryl...” His voice faltered, and he cleared his throat. “Sheryl, I’ve come to say goodbye.”
“No.” The word flew out of her, protesting, afraid. “No, don’t say that.”
Slowly he lifted his hand and caressed the fine line of her jaw with his knuckles. Sheryl’s eyes drifted shut as she swayed toward him, her hand grasping his hard wrist, keeping his fingers on her face. She turned her mouth toward his cold hand, touching her warm lips to his palm. She couldn’t stop herself, couldn’t keep herself from connecting to him.
With a sigh as light as a snowflake, he carefully drew her against him, his other hand sliding along her jawline to her neck, his fingers tangling in her hair.
“I’m leaving for Calgary.” His deep voice was a soft rumble beneath her hands. “I’ll be back in a week.” He said nothing more, as if waiting for her response.
She tilted her head, reaching up to cup his jaw, feeling its smoothness. “What do you want me to do?” she whispered, losing herself in the soft gray of his eyes. “I don’t know what to do. I just found out Ed gave me half of the ranch. What do I do?”
“I think you do whatever you want.”
“But that’s the problem. I don’t know what I want.”
“I do,” he said.
Then he bent his head and found her lips with his own. Sheryl slid one hand around his neck, the other around his back, clinging to him as their mouths met, explored, tasted. He held her tighter, his fingers caressing her head, holding it, while his lips moved from hers, lingering on her cheek, touching her eyes then returning to her mouth.
She felt a hunger growing, even while his caresses created an emptiness within her, a need for more. She inhaled the scent of him, soap and cold air, reveled in the strength of his arms, the comfort and security she knew she would find there.
Mark straightened, his hand still entangled in her hair, his arm still around her.
“So, Sheryl,” he lifted one corner of his mouth in a careful smile. “Now what?”
“I don’t know,” she replied her voice subdued.
“Neither do I.” He let his hand drop from her back. But his other slipped through her hair then lifted it to his mouth, brushing it softly. “I love you, I care for you, I want to marry you.” He let her hair drop then stepped back. “But I can’t make you feel the same.”
Sheryl was surprised she could still stand. To hear him open himself up to her, to make himself so weak in front of her, showed her more clearly than anything, his strength. She couldn’t speak, didn’t trust herself to say anything.
“As for the ranch, I want you to do only what you want to do. What you think is right for you. Not anyone else. You’ve had to make too many d
ecisions in your past around other people’s expectations.” He gave her a wry smile, then touched her face again. “And though I just told you I love you, I don’t want you to think of me when you make your choice. Choose for yourself.”
Sheryl’s heart folded over itself at his words. He was giving her a choice. An opportunity.
But what did she really want to do?
A rustling in the crib made them both turn. Benjamin stood at the rail, rubbing his eyes, his mouth pulled down in a pout.
Mark was the closest and he picked him up, swinging him into his arms. He turned to face Sheryl, Benjamin sitting easily in his arms.
He would make a wonderful father, she thought. And an even more wonderful husband.
“I have to leave, Sheryl. I’ve got a long drive ahead of me.” He kissed Benjamin on his forehead and handed him to Sheryl, bending over to pick up the briefcase she didn’t even know he had brought into the room. He turned to leave, hesitated and looked back at her. “I won’t forget you, and I pray you find what you’ve been looking for.”
He left, closing the door quietly behind him, sending an ache spinning deep within her.
Holding Benjamin close, she walked to the window.
He loved her. He loved her so much he was willing to give up his own work on the ranch, work that he loved, to ensure that she would have enough money to make her independent.
She laid her hot forehead against the window, listening to the sound of the snow ticking against it The wind, drifting down through the valley, was picking up. It was going to storm.
She felt as tossed about as the small flakes. Since her father died she had been seeking, trying to find home, trying to find a place she belonged.
And now Mark had offered her a chance to do something on her own, with no outside influences. He had just given her power over him, she realized. By telling Ed to change his will, he had sabotaged his own life. If she decided she wanted her share of the will at once, he would have to go back to working in the city and away from the ranch she knew he loved. It would be her gain, but the sacrifice would be his.
Homecoming (Sweet Hearts of Sweet Creek Book 1) Page 21