His Heart for the Trusting (Book 2 - Texas Hearts (Contemporary Western Romance)

by Mondello, Lisa

  Such strength.

  Sara remembered all too well how it had felt earlier to be in Mitch's arms. Her heart still raced with the memory.

  “What if she's never ready to trust you?”

  Mitch's expression grew serious, pulling her into his gaze. He took a few steps closer, his boots kicking up dust from the ground as he walked. He stopped a good ten feet from where she was standing and said, “I can wait as long as it takes, Sara.”

  #

  Chapter Five

  “I'm leaving.”

  A jolt of panic hit Mitch square in the center of his chest like electric shock from a socket. If he hadn't held tight to his spoon, he would have dropped it in his Corn Flakes.

  “Wha-why?” His eyes darted to the packed bags Sara carefully placed on the floor by the kitchen door. “I thought everything was going okay.”

  Sara's lips lifted ever so slightly at the corners. Her dark eyes deepened with a mixture of amusement and bewilderment. “What on earth are you talking about?”

  “Me? You’re the one who just said you're leaving.”

  Her lips now curled into a full-blown smile and the spoon finally slipped from his fingers and plopped into the bowl of milk directly below.

  “You didn't hear a word I said last night, did you Mitch?”

  Last night? He thought back to the night before and drew a blank. They'd talked briefly during dinner. And even then, neither of them said much because Jonathan fussed and Sara kept getting up from the table to soothe him. She'd said he was cutting teeth and would probably be a little cranky for a while until it broke through the gum. After dinner, she spent some time rocking him to sleep.

  Mitch had welcomed the reprieve. Things had been a little...tense between him and Sara since the incident in the workshop. They talked amiably, mostly about Jonathan. Beyond that, he'd just been too busy for either of them to have time to talk about anything else, let alone get past the awkwardness they'd felt.

  He'd kissed her. It was just a little kiss, but he could almost still taste her lips, and feel the soft sweetness of her as he’d held her in his arms. Yeah, that had been a real swell idea, especially in light of what he'd suspected had gone on in her marriage. She had to have thought about it a thousand times since then, just as he had, and finally decided it was time to pack her bags.

  But no, there was something else. Mitch searched the events of last night again and drew another blank. He'd been so tired lately his mind was a bit foggy.

  “What did we talk about?” he finally asked, admitting defeat.

  “My taking Jonathan to the reservation today. It's mom's day off and I thought I'd go do a little investigating, maybe even connect with an old friend or two so I can best plan out the next few months. I want to meet with the school principal and see about setting up some classes for storytelling in the curriculum. Mom said she'd watch Jonathan while I did all that.”

  It sounded vaguely familiar. He'd been working the horses more and more lately, pleased with the progress he'd made with them. He's gone straight to the corral after dinner. After that, he'd gone into the workshop to finish the final touches on the baby's crib. He'd been so tired when he'd walked upstairs that he'd gone straight to bed and slept like a dead horse.

  No, he'd met Sara in the hallway for just a brief moment before he'd turned in. That must have been when she'd mentioned her plans.

  Mitch shrugged apologetically. “Yesterday was a really long day.” He nodded to the overnight bag. “What's that for?”

  “I have some things, some presents to give my family. It was easier to stuff them all in a suitcase with the things Jonathan was going to need than to carry everything loose.”

  He nodded his understanding.

  “You look relieved.”

  Mitch gave a quick laugh and settled back in his chair, wiping the spilled milk that splattered on the table with a paper towel. “I am. I thought you were leaving. For good.”

  Abruptly, Sara's expression changed and Mitch didn't want to go where he knew this conversation was going to take them.

  “I'm going home eventually, Mitch. I thought you understood that when I agreed to help you take care of Jonathan.”

  “I know. You did.” Not that they talked about it much or that he liked the idea. But Sara had made her intentions clear.

  “Have you had any luck finding a replacement for me?”

  “No.” He wasn't being fair, he knew. He hadn't even begun looking for another nanny. When did he have time? Besides, after Sara, no one would be able to live up to his expectations.

  He needed exactly her. He wanted her. In more ways than he cared to admit.

  “Would you like me to ask around? People on the rez are always looking for good jobs. Mom might even know of a few girls that may be interested.”

  His head jerked to her and he saw immediate alarm sharpen her features. She quickly pulled a chair away from the table and sat down next to him.

  “I wouldn't make any offers of employment. Anyone I thought was right for the job I'd merely refer to you. You'd be able to meet them and make your own decision about who is a right fit for you and Jonathan.”

  You're the right fit for us, Sara. He didn't say the words, knowing he’d be completely backing out of their arrangement if he did.

  He didn't want someone else moving into his house. Someone with different ways, different likes, different pictures to hang on the wall. It was hard enough for him to admit he needed Sara. He'd finally gotten used to the idea and now she was talking about leaving. Sure, she'd always talked about her plans of being a storyteller. But somehow, he couldn't imagine her really leaving him. Them, he corrected himself, silently.

  “I just figure I could make it easier for you by helping things along since you have so little time.”

  “Sure,” he said, a little harsher than he intended.

  He walked to the refrigerator and yanked the door open. A pitcher of formula was already made and chilling. He had to move it to reach the milk.

  She glanced at the cereal bowl on the table. “Do you want something else to eat? A bowl of cereal is not that much.”

  “You don't have to feed me. I can take care of myself.”

  Sara looked at him thoughtfully, lingering to see what emotion was behind this sudden coolness that had filled the air around them. “I know I don't have to. Pass me the pitcher of formula please?”

  He did so, and grabbed the carton of milk for himself.

  “Since I obviously missed our conversation last night, why don't you fill me in? Are you going to be gone the whole day?”

  “I made you a lunch.”

  His shoulders sagged slightly. “That's not why I'm asking. Corrine cooks for the whole crew. I’ll never starve here on the ranch. I’m just asking.”

  She was going to find a replacement. For her. Mitch knew it was coming. He'd known all along this was just a temporary arrangement. But the thought of having someone else here in Sara's place just didn't settle well with him. He glanced around the kitchen. She'd be gone and everything about her would go with her. He didn't like the thought of that. He only hoped that her sudden push to leave wasn't because he'd been an idiot the other night when he’d kissed her.

  “I suspect we’ll be gone most of the day. I'll probably be back later this evening, if you don’t mind.”

  Why would he mind? It was the first time in a long time he'd have his house to himself again. No crying. No cares about waking up the baby.

  “Are you sure it’s okay with you?” she asked when he didn't respond.

  He glanced at her then and realized his mind had drifted.

  “Sure. In fact it may work out nice. I can paint the walls in Jonathan's bedroom and set up the crib. Get it ready to move him out of your room.”

  She smiled. “There's no rush. It's easier to have him in the room with me until he's sleeping through the night.”

  “A new nanny might want her own room.”

  Her expression was unr
eadable. After a short pause, she gave a quick nod and went about filling bottles with formula for the day.

  Jonathan started to cry and Sara quickly abandoned the bottles to tend to his son. Mitch closed his eyes and gave himself a hard word silently. He wasn’t being fair to Sara. She hadn't lied to him or led him on. He was the one who had changed the plan. He wanted things to stay exactly the way they were. But sooner or later, they would change. After his charming mood today, she just might make certain it was sooner rather than later.

  * * *

  Sara reached down and scooped Jonathan up from his cradle into her arms. She loved the feel of him, the way he smelled and the way his face suddenly transformed when his eyes caught sight of her or Mitch.

  Mitch had given her the cold shoulder about going to the reservation today. She wasn't sure exactly what was bothering him. Maybe it was because of her offer to help look for her replacement or that she was taking Jonathan away from the ranch for the day.

  Part of her hoped it was the latter. He'd bonded somewhat with his son, but Sara could tell that there was a wall there, carefully kept in check as if he were waiting for Lillian to come back and tell him that it had all been a lie, that Jonathan wasn't really his son at all. Or maybe because he had every intention of tracking Lillian down and giving Jonathan back. Whatever the reason, Mitch was keeping a careful distance.

  But none of that was any of her business. She'd told Mitch she was only going to stay until he found someone permanent for the job. She had her plans to move back to the reservation, teach the stories of her culture to the children. Nothing had changed. She glanced down at the now fully awake Jonathan, who was grinning up at her with a drooly, toothless grin.

  Her heart squeezed. This had changed, as she knew it would. She nuzzled the baby's neck until he let out a high-pitch squeal of delight. She was becoming very attached to this beautiful baby. He wasn't just a child that she visited at the daycare and then handed over to the arms of his mother. This child looked up at her with an innate trust that children only reserved for a parent, a primary person in their life.

  Except, she wasn't Jonathan's mother. She wasn't a permanent part of his life or Mitch's life. Soon she would leave. Sara’s heart gave another tug of pain and longing.

  For all their sakes, she should make it soon.

  * * *

  “It's beautiful, mother.” Sara said, holding the blue and white dress up for view. The tiny metal “fringes” that had been sown all the way around the jingle dress sounded like rain as she moved.

  “I knew you'd like it,” Alice said, her face beaming with delight. “A little over a year ago, after Mandy came back to Texas, I had a dream that you were wearing it.”

  Sara tried not to show her shock. The jingle dress was used by Native American women to dance at the Powwow. Many stories were told of a sick child who needed healing. The child’s grandfather had a dream that the little girl was wearing a beautiful, colorful dress that jingled as she moved, making music. The child had been healed.

  “Me? But mother, I don't need to be healed?”

  Her mother eyed her knowingly. “Are you sure, sweetheart?”

  “I've visited my doctor before I left California and I'm as fit as can be,” she said, knowing full well her mother wasn't talking about her health.

  “You're still so unsure of your step.”

  “I'm getting steadier on my feet,” Sara quickly insisted. “It's been a long time since I've been back to the rez. Los Angeles is so different. The people, the environment, the pace…everything. It's taking a while to slow down and really feel like I'm home.”

  “It's not home that hurt you.” Alice wrapped her hands about Sara's as she held the dress to her chest. “He hurt you, didn't he?”

  Sara hesitated. What mother wanted to hear such horrors? And yet, to deny what went on in her life with Dave would have been wrong.

  “Never with his hands,” she replied.

  “But with his words.”

  “Yes,” she admitted softly.

  “Then it's your heart that needs healing so you can trust again. So you can begin to love again.”

  Sara chuckled wryly, and carefully set the dress down over the basket her mother had retrieved it from. It was delicate and needed to be handled with the care and love with which it was made. There was a time, many years ago, when she wouldn't have appreciated the beauty of such a dress. Back then she would have balked at its meaning.

  “I'm done with all that mother.”

  A quick laugh came from deep in Alice's throat and escaped her lips. “I've lived a lot more years than you, Sara. The way you look at him. I can see love when it's there.”

  Her head snapped up to meet her mother's gaze, her mouth flew agape. “It's not like that with Mitch.”

  Her mother offered a wry smirk. “The heart listens to no one. Even the sensible mind that tells it something different.”

  She forced words past the sudden lump lodge deep in her throat. “I'm not ready to go through that again.”

  “And what was that?”

  Tears that seemed to come from deep in her soul welled up in her eyes. “I not ready to talk about it, either.”

  “You're not the same woman you were before. Deep down you're the same Sara that left the reservation, but the woman who has come home is changed. You're stronger.”

  “Yes, I am,” she said quietly, trying her best to give her mother a smile of reassurance. Trying, too, to feel the confidence of making such an achievement. “But I still can't talk about it.”

  Alice pulled her daughter into a tight embrace. “Then you can dance at the Powwow. When you're ready to talk, I'm here.”

  The day had both its good points and bad points. On a somewhat positive side, the school administration was excited about the prospect of adding a storytelling class to the curriculum, but encouraged Sara to move beyond Steerage Rock to teach the Apache history to those Native American children who no longer lived on the reservation. It wasn't exactly what she'd thought she’d be doing. But it made sense to reach those children who didn't have the benefit of living the culture firsthand.

  Despite good intentions, Sara's efforts for finding someone who was willing to work as Jonathan's nanny were futile. Oh, there had been many interested parties. But most involved simply day care arrangements instead of living on the premises, which of course, she knew Mitch really wanted and needed given the disjointed hours he worked on the ranch. He needed someone round the clock, so he could leave the house on a moment's notice. Many of the young girls who were would-be candidates either weren't ready for the responsibility or didn't want the commitment of something so isolating.

  Sara understood that as much as she understood her own need to find someone to replace her quickly. Not only so she could begin her work as a storyteller, but because of her visit with her mother. Especially in light of her visit with her mother.

  Her heart needed healing. That much Sara couldn't deny. But not so she could move on to love Mitch. It just couldn't happen. And the sooner she found a replacement, left the Double T, and Mitch's home, the better off they'd all be.

  The headlights of the car bobbed up and down the Double T driveway. A sense of calm washed over her to be heading home again. Home. Now where had that come from? The Double T was not her home. Her home was on the reservation.

  Jonathan murmured in his sleep and she glanced in the mirror to check on him in the backseat where he slept in his car seat.

  Pulling up in front of Mitch’s house, she realized this wasn't her home either. Why on earth had she thought of that?

  He needed to know the truth. Deep down, Sara knew Mitch thought of her as his salvation in a situation that had been thrust upon him. But she wasn't anyone's salvation, least of all this baby's.

  They'd need to talk. And it needed to be soon.

  It was time he learned the real truth about Sara Lightfoot.

  * * *

  Sara found Mitch in the bedroom, foldin
g up old drop cloths that had been spattered with sky blue paint. The bedroom smelled thickly of paint and the open window did little to air it out.

  She knocked on the door when he didn't turn around.

  Mitch turned with a start. “I didn't hear you drive up.”

  “We just got back.”

  “Did you have a good time?” He wiped his hands on the thighs of his paint splattered jeans, and reached for Jonathan.

  “I don't think it'll take much for him to fall asleep. He didn't have much of a nap since there were so many kids and so many arms to pass him to at my mother's.”

  Mitch took Jonathan in his arms and gave him a kiss on his head. Jonathan shifted and fussed but Mitch didn't seem uncomfortable with it. The warmth in his eyes showed he was genuinely happy that they were home.

  “If you don't mind,” Mitch said, handing the baby back to Sara. “I'd like to change my clothes and give him his bottle before putting him down.”

  Sara nodded, a slight tug pulling at her heartstrings. “Why would I mind? He’s your son. Besides, if you feed him, it'll give me time to unpack things and straighten up. I'll get his bottle ready.”

  She turned to leave but then stopped, turning back to Mitch. “It you're not too tired I'd like to talk later.”

  “Sure,” he said, his face still holding all the joy at seeing them. Or rather, seeing his son. “I'll meet you downstairs in a little while.”

  * * *

  Mitch held Jonathan in his arms for a lingering second before bending his head to give his son a kiss on his forehead. The baby smelled clean and sweet with fresh baby powder. Sara had sponge bathed Jonathan while Mitch was taking a shower, scrubbing off all the pale blue paint that had splattered on his hands and his face while he painted Jonathan's bedroom.

  Sara wanted to talk, she'd said. That could mean only one thing. She found a replacement.

  Mitch really didn't want to think about it. And he certainly didn't want to talk about it. He just wanted Sara to stay. He couldn't imagine another woman in his home. But it was looking as if the choice wasn't his to make.