“No,” he said softly.
“I’ll save you the trouble of reading it. Somehow she found the strength to bring that girl to her grandmother’s house. She rode the bus back, and somewhere between Houston and Galveston, she went into cardiac arrest. Had a stroke, too. Spent the better part of eighteen months learning how to walk and talk again. Of course, by that time her little girl had been living with her grandma so long that she was afraid to claim her. Want to know more, or have you heard enough?”
Nate let out a soft, low whistle as he digested the information and compared it to the woman he thought she was. He tried to respond to Sully but found he could only shake his head.
The old man shrugged and went back to his puzzle. “Yeah,” he said with distinct displeasure. “I think you’ve heard enough.”
Nate slammed the file shut and stared at it for what felt like an eternity. His limbs felt like lead, and his brain refused to focus.
When he looked up, Sully was standing in front of him. The older man snatched up the file and shuffled over to the cabinet, where he stuck it back in place.
“I’ll tell you what Stan won’t. Your granny’s behind this.”
He’d kind of figured. “Does she know what’s in that file?”
Sully shook his head. “Said she didn’t need to know. She just wanted you to find that girl.” He paused. “Go do something about this, kid, or you’ll never forgive yourself.”
Nate ran every light he could in his hurry to get back to the duplex, and it was only through luck or the grace of God that he didn’t get a ticket or, worse, arrested. When he pulled into the driveway, her Jeep was gone. And so was she.
Chapter Nine
The little cottage at the back of Bonnie Sue’s property was snug and cozy, a confection of floral pillows and white furnishings. The walls had been painted a soft blue-gray, and the wood floors were polished to a beautiful shine. Here and there lay rugs in the same colors as the pillows.
In the bathroom, a cast iron tub on scrolled feet sat beneath a floor-to-ceiling stained glass window that looked as if it might have come from an old church. When the sun set, it cast glorious multicolored shadows on the hexagonal white tiles and turned the room into something beyond description.
But Skye’s favorite place in the tiny abode was the kitchen. Just as small as everything else in this cottage, its gleaming white cabinets and marble countertops were set off by an antique stove that functioned better than the one she’d used in Galveston.
Waking up inside the Rose Cottage, as Bonnie Sue had called it, was like waking up inside a doll’s house. She’d been skeptical when her hostess had set off down a path through her garden and past the barn with one of the stable hands carrying the boxes and suitcase Skye had hastily packed.
Now that she’d been here a week, Skye appreciated the lovely seclusion of sitting on her porch and watching the horses through the trees. Except for the occasional activity up at the barn, she stayed at Rose Cottage and felt as if she were in her own world—a world Bonnie Sue had generously stocked with plenty of books and more than a few college catalogues.
The only other sign of life back here at the far edge of the Easley property was another cottage much like hers. It was set in a similar thicket of trees and was barely visible from her porch. Bonnie Sue had called that one the Fishing Cottage, presumably because of its proximity to a small lake stocked with freshwater fish.
Until this morning, the neighboring cottage had remained dark. Today, however, a pair of muddy boots sat outside the door. Probably a ranch hand who’d stayed late and appropriated the bed there, she decided as she waved at Bonnie Sue, who was walking up the path. Today her usual pink color had taken the form of a sparkling top that she wore over a trim pair of jeans. A pair of Converse sneakers in the same brilliant pink completed the outfit.
“Good morning,” the spry woman called. “I thought we’d skip our morning walk and do something different.”
“Not yoga class again, I hope.” Skye rose to give her a hug. “I’m still sore from the last one. I don’t know how you do all those twists and bends.”
“Oh, it’s all in what you get used to. But then, that’s true of everything, isn’t it?” She waved away the question with a swipe of her hand. “Well of course it is. Anyway, I’ve got something special planned for this morning.”
“Here on the property, or should I get my purse?”
“You’ll need your purse,” she said.
“All right, just give me a second.”
“Wait. Sit down first here on the swing beside me.” When Skye had complied, Bonnie Sue reached over to grasp her hand. “I think it’s time, honey.”
Her stomach dropped.
Bonnie Sue swiveled slightly to look intently in her direction. “To see your daughter.”
With those words, the breath left her. Sessa had paid her a visit on her second day in the cottage, and while Pansie’s grandmother had been welcoming and kind, she had also seemed wary about Skye’s re-entry into her granddaughter’s life. Not that Skye blamed her.
So on Bonnie Sue’s advice, Skye had remained there on the property and waited until the older women in her daughter’s life had time to prepare the little girl.
Skye had always chosen what was best for Pansie over what she wanted, and this journey back into Pansie’s world was no exception. One step at a time and slowly, that was how Bonnie Sue said it would happen. And now here she was about to take that first step.
And she was terrified.
“One more thing,” Bonnie Sue said as she looked her up and down. “You’re going to need to change into something that works for riding horses.” She paused. “You have ridden horses before, haven’t you?”
She’d spent several years with a foster family in central Texas who owned a dude ranch. Those had been some of the most fun times of her teen years. Until the couple split up. Neither of them had been willing to take Skye with them.
“I have.” She rose to find a more appropriate outfit. A few minutes later, she returned to the porch wearing jeans and boots with her T-shirt.
By the time they arrived at Sessa and Trey Dalton’s ranch, Skye was about to jump out of her skin. Every bump in the road, every time Bonnie Sue applied the brakes or made a quick turn, she’d tried not to gasp. Now, too soon—and yet not soon enough—they had arrived.
Bonnie Sue stopped beneath the overhang on the side of the house that Skye remembered all too well. Automatically her eyes went to the third window on the right. Pansie’s room.
“They moved her upstairs,” Bonnie Sue said. “I’m sure you understand.”
Fresh guilt rose. “Yes, I do.”
“All right, then,” the older woman said with way too much enthusiasm. “Let’s go see Pansie.”
She nodded to a path that led to the barn and the back pasture that Skye recalled quite well. Two years before, she’d said good-bye to Pansie’s father out there. Not really, of course, since he’d been dead more than two years by then, but in the best way she knew how to honor him.
Sessa hadn’t judged her odd idea to release fireflies and dance beneath the skies then. She prayed the woman wouldn’t judge her now.
“First, might I see Sessa? If she’s here, that is.”
If Bonnie Sue was surprised by the request, she didn’t show it. Instead, she knocked twice and then entered the comfortable home through the side door. “Honey, you’ve got company.”
“In the kitchen,” Sessa called. She was washing dishes, a bright floral dishtowel slung over one shoulder. Her smile faded when she spied Skye. “I didn’t expect to see you here.”
“Honey, I told you I’d be bringing her over to see Pansie.”
Sessa’s attention moved from Bonnie Sue back to Skye. “No, I meant in the house.”
“I wanted to see you first,” Skye said.
Sessa leaned against the edge of the sink and swiped her hands dry on the towel. “All right.”
“I just wanted to
say . . .” A lump rose in her throat. “That is . . . I wish I had the words to . . . that is, I’m so sorry about the window and . . .” The stupid lump multiplied in size until the words could no longer emerge.
The kitchen swam beneath a shimmering of tears. Before she could bat them away, Sessa closed the distance between them and enveloped Skye in her arms. She smelled sweet like lilacs, and her tears soon joined Skye’s.
“Oh, for goodness’ sakes,” Bonnie Sue said as she wrapped her arms around both of them.
“All is forgiven,” Sessa said. “Welcome home.”
Those words started a fresh round of tears, and even Bonnie Sue joined in.
“What in the world is going on?”
All three of them jumped at the sound of the male voice.
“Skye,” Sessa said, “have you met my husband, Dr. Dalton?”
Skye reached over to shake the doctor’s hand.
“I’m very glad to finally meet you,” he said. “Your daughter is a delight. Thank you for sharing her with us.”
“Thank you all”—the lump tried to rise again, but Skye refused to allow it—”for giving my little girl a home and loving her.”
“I need to know something,” Sessa said. “What are your plans? Will you be staying in Sugar Pine?”
She’d been considering the answer to this for a long time. “I’ve been looking at college catalogs, and I think maybe I should consider becoming a counselor or a therapist. There are so many children like me who get lost in the foster care system. I would love to be someone who could help them.”
“I love that idea,” Sessa said as Bonnie Sue nodded. “But where will you go?”
She paused. “There are a few colleges that aren’t too far from here. But since the fall semester has already begun, I would have to wait until the spring, so I don’t know what I’ll do until then.”
“Well, I do,” Bonnie Sue said. “You’ll get a job here in Sugar Pine and enjoy spending time with that daughter of yours.”
“Agreed,” Sessa said. “If you need a place to stay, we have plenty of room here.”
“Much as I appreciate that, I think I need to do this on my own.”
“Sounds like she’s as independent as Pansie,” Bonnie Sue said. “Just know you’re welcome to stay in Rose Cottage until you decide where you’ll live and what you’ll do.”
“Thank you,” Skye said.
“Speaking of your little girl,” Dr. Dalton said. “I’ve been elected to take you down to the barn.” He nodded to the door where they’d entered a few minutes before. “Come on. She’s getting impatient.”
“She gets that from me,” Skye admitted as the others grinned.
One more round of hugs from the older ladies, and Skye followed Dr. Dalton out the door, where a golf cart waited for them. He climbed in, but she hesitated.
“Do you think I could walk?”
He nodded, and she was grateful. She needed to move slower, to allow the option of turning around if she had to. To run if she felt she must.
“Right back there on the other side of the barn. She’s in the middle of the lesson, but she’ll be looking for you.”
Skye nodded and headed off in that direction, her knees wobbling with every step. Then she heard the childish laughter and stopped short.
Her baby.
Her daughter.
Another peal of laughter, and Skye’s heart thudded. The urge to run, be it toward Pansie or away, rose strong.
Instead of what she normally did, she chose to go toward.
Though her boots dug into fresh grass and caught at least twice in muddy spots, she rounded the barn quickly, intent on finally standing before Pansie as her mother. Unfortunately, she ran right into a wall of denim.
“Hello, Skye,” the familiar voice said against her ear. She looked up to see Nate Donahue. She pulled out of his arms.
“Look, Uncle Nate! See how fast I can go.”
Nate whirled around and stalked into the paddock where a beautiful little dark-haired girl sat expertly atop a pony on a pink leather saddle. Her pink boots and vest clashed with the red cowgirl hat on her head.
“Oh no, you don’t, girlie,” Nate said, but he was too late. She set the pony in motion, her ponytail flying, leaving Nate to stand and watch with his hands on his hips.
Skye picked her way through the mud and horse droppings to stand beside Nate. “You’re teaching her riding lesson?”
“Hauling criminals back to jail and finding women who don’t want to be found aren’t my only skills,” he said as he spared her a quick look before returning his attention to Pansie. “And by women, I mean you, Skye. Or do you prefer Autumn?”
“Either is fine.” She watched Pansie turn the horse back toward them. “She’s really good, isn’t she?”
“Does that surprise you?”
Skye shook her head. “Her dad never met a horse he couldn’t ride.”
“Why did you name yourself Autumn, Skye?”
She shrugged. “My mama called me Skye. I just added Autumn when I got a chance because it fit who I had become.”
“And who was that?”
“Someone who leaves.”
He nodded slowly. “Autumn leaves. Clever.”
“I thought so at the time.”
“And now?”
“Uncle Nate,” the little girl called from the opposite side of the corral. “Is that my mama?”
“Why don’t you come find out?” he answered before looking down at Skye. “Look, I know this isn’t the time for long speeches, but I’m not done with us. I acted like a hardheaded fool back in Galveston, and I need to ask your forgiveness for that. When I figured out who you were and added that to what I’d heard about Pansie’s mama, well, I just . . .” He shook his head. “I was wrong. Way wrong.”
She nodded, but she couldn’t keep her eyes off her daughter. “Thank you. Right now, I just want to meet my daughter. Is there anything I need to know about her before she gets over here?”
“Yeah,” he said. “She’s smart and funny and don’t ever try to lie to her, because she can see right through that. Oh, and she can bake a mean pie crust.”
“You’re joking.”
“I’m serious.”
Pansie pulled the horse up short, dropped to the ground, and ran. She stopped about a foot in front of Skye. She’d grown several inches since Skye had seen her last. Her face had lost more of its babyish curves. She was more a little girl than a toddler now. “You’re my mama, aren’t you?”
“Oh, honey.” Skye dropped to her knees and held her arms out for her little girl. “Yes, Pansie, girl. I’m your mama.”
“And you’re home!” Pansie stepped into the hug and wrapped her arms around Skye’s neck.
Oh, if she could only say that she was. Instead, she hugged her tighter.
“Come ride with me.” Pansie backed away. “We can both ride on my pony. Her name is Sugar, and she’s fast.”
“I’ll bet she is, but I don’t think both of us will fit on that little saddle of yours,” Skye said.
“Okay then, want to watch me do some tricks?”
“I would love that.” Skye settled onto the fence rail as Pansie’s horse galloped away to the other side of the paddock.
Nate stood beside her.
“How long has she been riding?” she asked.
“Long as I can remember,” he said. “I think Sessa had her on a horse by the time she was two. Not riding it, mind you, but just sitting in the seat and letting someone walk her around. She’s a natural.”
“Thank you for checking up on her. It seems she’s had a lot of people in her life who love her.”
“She’s a special little girl.” He paused. “So you’ve been staying in Rose Cottage. Has Bonnie Sue convinced you to join that book club of hers?”
Skye chuckled. “Of course. The next meeting’s soon. Want to come along? We’ll be talking about men in kilts. Apparently they’re very romantic.”
“I see
.” He shrugged. “I guess if that’s what it takes for a woman to feel romanced, then I’d put on a kilt.”
“You would?” She laughed. “Seriously?”
“Sure, if the occasion warranted.” He paused. “But attend that book club? I don’t know about that. It’d take someone really special to get me there.”
Silence fell between them as they watched Pansie put her horse through its paces. Finally Nate nudged her knee.
“I know why you didn’t come back for her.”
“What?” She tore her attention away from Pansie to study him.
“I know, Skye. About the stroke.”
Oh. She looked away.
“Why didn’t you tell anyone?”
“At first I couldn’t. If you know about the stroke, you probably know I was in John Sealy for a long time.”
“Eighteen months,” he supplied.
“Yeah.”
“But after?”
“I tried,” she said. “I came out here, even spent the night at Sessa’s place. I thought I’d claim her then. But she was so happy, and Sessa and Bonnie Sue were doing such a good job of raising her. I just couldn’t take her when I had nothing to offer . . .”
He patted her knee and then left his hand resting there. “You did what you thought was best for her.”
“Watch, Mama!”
Pansie whirled by, her giggle following in her wake. Skye clapped for her, and cheered even as she held that one word close against her heart. Mama.
Gradually she became aware that Nate’s hand was still resting atop her knee, and she placed her hand over his. Together they watched the little girl they both loved run circles around the paddock.
Finally Nate called her over, and Pansie reluctantly gave up her horse to him. “Do you want to brush her, Pansie?” he asked.
“No,” she said. “I want to walk with my mama.”
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