Out of habit, he took off his hat. After all, this was church. It was small. There were no pews. A minister didn’t preach here on Sunday. But the room had a comforting feeling, as if Jesus might walk in at any moment, clasp a hand on a man’s shoulder and tell him to let go of his burdens.
It was hard to let go of the burdens he’d been carrying for several years. He’d grown too accustomed to the weight.
When he thought about letting go, he wondered who he’d be without them. Without the burdens. He guessed it was wrong to think of Emma and Jamie as burdens; they weren’t. They had actually become his anchor, keeping him grounded. Because without them, he might not have wanted to survive the last few years.
He might have given in to some other ways of easing the guilt. He had plenty of friends who had found comfort in the bottom of a bottle. He also had friends who relied on faith. They seemed better off, if he was being honest.
He focused on work, and on keeping Jamie and Emma safe. Fixing a fence from time to time when she’d let him, buying Christmas gifts that he had delivered to their house, so she wouldn’t turn them away.
He eased into the seat by the window of the chapel. A picture hung on the wall with a verse about comfort. This room was meant to comfort.
He bowed his head, hat in his hands. He hadn’t prayed in a long time. He guessed he’d never been much of a praying man. He hadn’t been raised the way Boone had, going to church, having faith, believing it above all else. When he’d filled out the paperwork to join the army, he checked the Christian box because if anyone had asked, of course he believed in God.
He’d prayed for Andy to live. Now he would pray for Jamie. And God had better be listening. Because she was a little girl. She was three years old with her whole life ahead of her. She had a mom who would do anything for her. And she had a granddad who loved her “more than the stars in the sky.”
That was what Art had told her when he said goodbye to Jamie, before Boone gave the older man a ride home.
Daron hadn’t been raised going to Sunday school. He’d been to church a few times with the Wilders. That was the sum total of his experience with prayer. But he felt as if he had the basics down. Petition God. Ask the Almighty to spare a little girl.
When he heard a noise, he looked up, heat flooding his face. He stood, nearly knocking the chair over in the process. He jammed his hat back on his head and faced the person standing just inside the doorway.
Emma, head tilted, dark hair framing her face, studied him as if she’d never seen him before. “I didn’t expect to see you here.” She brushed a hand over her face and shook her head. “Not that you wouldn’t pray. That isn’t what I meant.”
He waited, a grin sneaking up on him, as she found words for what she meant. She was cute. He’d avoided that thought for a few years because Andy had been married to her and there were lines a man didn’t cross. But tonight, in a softly lit chapel, sleep still in her eyes and her dark hair a bit of a mess, he couldn’t deny it. He guessed his brain was a little sleep addled, too.
“I meant, I thought you’d come to your senses and left,” Emma finished.
“Should I be insulted that you were surprised to find me in the chapel?” Daron teased. “Or because you thought I’d leave you here alone.”
“Stop.” She held up a hand. “Please, not right now.”
She looked vulnerable and alone. Instead of arguing, he closed the distance between them and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close. She didn’t fight. That took him by surprise. He was more surprised when she rested her cheek against his chest.
“I’m glad you’re still here,” she whispered. “I’m so tired of being alone. I have Jamie. I have Art. And of course I have friends. But sometimes I feel so stinking alone.”
“I’m not going anywhere, Emma.”
She left his arms and walked through the room to the cross. Her head bowed. He watched from the doorway as she prayed. He marveled at how she kept going, even seemed to be happy most of the time. By the world’s standards she didn’t have much, but he figured she had more than most.
Eventually she turned around, her expression telling him she hadn’t expected him to still be there, waiting for her.
“What happened between you and Andy’s parents?” he asked as they walked back down the hall, past the nurses’ station, past rooms where children slept, some alone and some with parents close by.
“Other than the money, you mean?”
Andy had mentioned the money to him, that he’d divorced her and made his brother, Pete, his beneficiary. Once Andy learned about the baby, he’d meant to switch it back. He hadn’t. But there had to be more.
“Other than the money,” he said. “Because Pete got the life insurance, correct?”
“Pete believes Andy had another policy. And I think he did, before we got married. But he dropped it because he thought what he got through the military was enough. Pete doesn’t believe me.” She shrugged slim shoulders and paused a few feet from Jamie’s door. “They didn’t believe Jamie was Andy’s daughter. We divorced so quickly. He left for the Middle East soon after. It didn’t add up to them. But I’m not going to beg them to see her, or invite them here to hurt her.”
“But Jamie is their granddaughter.”
“They told me if she’s really Andy’s, they’ll take her away from me. It’s an empty threat. They can’t take her. But the fact that they’d threaten it is enough.”
He took her by the arm and guided her in the direction of the waiting room, where he fixed them each a cup of coffee. She took a seat, propping her feet up on a coffee table. He handed her a cup and sat down next to her.
“Andy and I were friends but I don’t know his parents very well,” he said. “But if there is some way I can help...? Is that why Pete shows up every few weeks?”
“You really have to stop camping out on the road. We don’t need for you to protect us,” she told him as she lifted the cup to take a sip.
“I don’t sleep a lot. Keeping an eye on things is the least I can do.”
She set the cup down on the table next to her. “I don’t know what to do about Pete. You losing sleep isn’t going to change that. And it isn’t helping you, is it?”
He ignored the last statement, because he wasn’t going to get bogged down in the subject of nightmares and shrapnel injuries.
“Pete’s on meth. He used to be a decent kid, but his brain is melting.” The subject of Pete was easier to tackle.
“I agree. Andy knew it, too. I just don’t understand why he...” She stopped and shook her head. “No use asking why. It won’t change anything. I don’t want you to feel as if we’re your responsibility. We aren’t. And we really are doing okay. Things are tight, but we’ve got this.”
“I know you do.”
But he couldn’t walk away. If someone had asked him if it was the guilt that kept him tied to her, or something else, he would have avoided the question. He wouldn’t even allow himself to think about all the reasons he stayed in her life.
He’d always prided himself on being loyal. A loyal man didn’t let himself get involved with a friend’s wife.
Even if that friend was gone and the woman in question was hard to walk away from.
Chapter Five
Jamie was released from the hospital on Saturday morning. Emma helped her put on the fuzzy slippers, the only shoes they had with them, and handed her the teddy bear Daron had brought her the previous day. Throughout Jamie’s stay he’d remained close at hand. Emma had tried to tell him to go home, or to work, whatever he needed to do. But he’d refused. Instead he’d slept in a chair in the hall or the waiting room. He’d brought her coffee, insisted she eat, and he’d entertained Jamie with sock puppets he bought in the hospital gift shop.
A light knock on the door frame interrup
ted her musings. She turned, not surprised to see Daron standing there. Her heart did something crazy and unexpected. No, not unexpected. She was a living, breathing woman, so of course she noticed that he was tall with shoulders broad enough to lean on, arms that held a woman tight and a dimpled Texas cowboy smile that knew its own charm.
He’d been kind to them. He’d been there for her during some of her toughest days. She appreciated him. Even though he was a bit of a pain. Like a stray dog that just couldn’t be convinced he needed to keep moving on down the road.
“Your chariot awaits,” he said in a low voice as he removed his hat. “Art said to let you know he’s got stew for dinner.”
“You’ve seen Granddad?”
Jamie was tugging at her hand and whispering. Emma glanced down at her daughter and smiled.
“What do you want, sweetie?”
“Did Daron really bring a chariot?” Jamie whispered, her eyes round.
“No, honey, he didn’t. That’s just a saying. He brought his truck.”
Daron stepped into the room, as if he’d been invited. Emma didn’t know when, but in the past few days she had sort of invited him into her life. She certainly had leaned on him for the last few days.
But she didn’t want to get used to it. She had Jamie. And Granddad. They were a family. Daron was only temporary. She’d been telling herself that for a few years now. Sooner or later he’d work through whatever it was that kept him up at night and he’d move on. Maybe he’d go back to Austin. Maybe he’d get married and have kids of his own.
Jamie was holding her arms up. To Daron. He gave Emma a quick look, asking permission. Her hesitation was brief; then she nodded. Daron lifted Jamie gently, her arms wrapping around his neck. Her grin split open and the dimple in her cheek deepened. It hit Emma that they could be father and daughter. Both had hair more blond than brown, unruly curls and that dimple. Hers in the left cheek and his in the right. It made them a matched set. Like bookends.
But they weren’t father and daughter. She cleared her throat and took a deep breath, getting past the thick emotions that settled in her chest. Wordlessly she packed up the few things still scattered around the room.
“Ready to go home?” Samantha asked as she breezed into the room.
“All ready,” Emma said. She held their overnight bag and the bouquet of flowers Duke Martin had sent from all the folks at Duke’s No Bar and Grill.
“Here’s the prescription.” Samantha handed her a paper. “We called it in to the Braswell Pharmacy. It should be ready. And Dr. Jacobs would like to see her in a week. He’ll arrange for you to meet with the surgeon in Austin. Probably in the next couple of weeks.”
Emma nodded, hoping her fear didn’t show. Daron reached for the bag she carried. He hefted it over his shoulder and motioned her forward.
“Sam, thank you for everything.” Emma hugged the other woman. “I’m glad you were here.”
“Me, too. And if you need anything, just call.”
Moments later they walked into bright sunlight and fresh December air, crisp and clear. The sky was the color of robin’s eggs, the haze of heat gone. Emma drew in a deep breath, for brief seconds closing her eyes as she exhaled. When she opened her eyes, Daron still stood next to her, Jamie’s head against his shoulder.
“You okay?” he asked.
“I’m good. It just feels good to be outside and to breathe fresh air.” She motioned him forward and he continued across the parking lot in the direction of his truck, the pearl-white paint gleaming in the winter sunshine.
He’d installed a car seat in the back of the truck cab. It didn’t surprise her. Jamie gladly climbed in, tucking her stuffed animal under her chin and cuddling into the blanket Emma had brought for her.
“Time to go home,” Emma said, kissing her daughter on the cheek.
When they pulled up to the house, Jamie perked up. Her dog was on the front porch, tail wagging. Granddad opened the front door as Daron pulled right up to the porch.
“We can walk, you know,” she muttered.
“Of course you can,” he said as he eased to a stop and pulled the truck’s emergency brake. “But why do that when I can give you front-door service?”
She unfastened her seat belt but didn’t move to get out. “Thank you, Daron. For everything.”
He winked, a gesture telling her it didn’t really matter. But it did. They both knew it. He’d seen how much it mattered. “Anytime.”
What should she say to that? No, he shouldn’t do this “anytime.” Anytime required something more than his hovering on the periphery of their lives, rescuing them, protecting them. Out of some sense of obligation, she thought. And how long could he go on, feeling so guilty?
“Daron, it’s too much,” she said quietly, stopping him from reaching in the backseat to unbuckle Jamie.
“Too much?”
She bit down on the corner of her lip, trying to explain, to find a way to release him from whatever it was that kept him tied to their lives.
“You don’t have to do all this. I don’t know what happened, but I know you feel some sense of obligation to us. You don’t have to. I don’t blame you for Andy’s death.” She studied his face, the shift of his eyes away from her, the way his throat moved when he swallowed. “Let go. It happened and you don’t have to continue this, whatever it is.”
“Friendship?” He smiled only faintly as he looked at her.
“Is that what it is? Or is it that you’re still worried that you owe us something?”
“It isn’t guilt, Emma.”
She arched a brow.
“Okay, maybe some guilt,” he admitted with an amused expression that didn’t quite touch his eyes.
“You don’t have to feel guilty. You didn’t take anything from me. It was already taken. Andy left me. Our marriage had ended, because...” She shook her head. “No, I’m not going to discuss this right now. But we were over and I’m sorry if he said something that made you feel responsible for us. So stop. You don’t have to watch over us this way.”
“It’s been a long three years, Emma. I consider you a friend. And I’m not one to walk out on a friendship.”
“Friendship is a cup of coffee and a phone call, not midnight drives, patrolling my road.”
He chuckled. “You make me sound a little creepy. But if it takes coffee and phone calls for you to consider me a friend, then I could use coffee. And we could all use more friends.”
They sat there for several minutes as she tried to gather up the courage to truly let him in.
“I could use a friend,” she admitted. “I’ve been so busy, I’ve lost track of the ones I used to have.”
He held out a hand. “Then we start today as friends.”
“And you stop the crazy stalker/protector thing you’ve been doing.” She took his hand, his fingers strong around hers.
“Nah, I don’t think I can do that.” With that settled, he reached in the backseat for Jamie. Somehow he’d twisted things around and she’d accepted his interference in her life. All because he’d used the word friend.
She wanted to argue but couldn’t. He had Jamie in the front seat with them, and he was buttoning up her jacket, as if he’d been doing it all her life.
Jamie’s arms were around his neck. The perfect sunny day had disappeared as they’d driven, and the blue sky was now heavy with clouds. A few drops of rain splattered against the windshield.
Jamie leaned in, touching her nose against Daron’s. Emma’s heart stuttered over that moment, the gesture her daughter usually reserved only for mother-and-daughter moments.
Daron caught her eye and winked, but he couldn’t know what it meant, to share that moment with her daughter. To him it was simply a cute gesture.
“We should go inside before this turns into a down
pour,” he suggested just as a deafening clap of thunder vibrated through the truck.
“We might be too late.” Suddenly rain pounded against the dry earth and beat against the windshield of the truck. “Maybe it will let up soon.”
“Yeah, I’m sure that’s what Noah said after the first thirty days. Let’s make a run for it. I’ve got Jamie. You get the bag.”
They flew from the truck, heads down against the drenching, but it did no good. They were soaked to the skin as they hurried up the steps and rushed through the front door. The house was warm, but a bucket sitting in the middle of the living room floor reminded Emma that the roof still leaked. Drat.
Granddad handed them towels. “I’ve got coffee brewing and lunch on the stove.”
“Looks like we’d best take care of that leak first.” Daron rubbed his hair and face with the towel and handed it back to him. “This rain isn’t supposed to let up for a few days.”
“Too wet to get up there and put down shingles,” Granddad told him, leading the way through the living room to the kitchen. “The bucket will keep us from getting flooded out, and as soon as this clears up, I’ll get up on the roof.”
“Do you have another tarp?” Daron asked, taking the cup of coffee her grandfather poured for him.
Emma took Jamie from Daron’s arms and pretended this conversation about her roof wasn’t humiliating. She’d already patched it. And added the tarp the previous week in hopes that they could sell some cattle to pay for the new roof the old house so desperately needed.
“Yeah, I think there’s one in the shed,” Granddad answered.
Emma held her daughter close, draping a blanket around her. The two men went on discussing the roof.
She had to stop this. “We can fix the roof ourselves, Daron. You’ve really done enough. Our roof isn’t your problem.”
Her Guardian Rancher Page 5