Balancing Act

by Patricia Davids

  “Why did she leave her baby behind?”

  “I think he was too little to run away, and she knew that we would take care of him.”

  “Will he miss her?” Lindy asked.

  Cheryl stroked his slender neck and watched him guzzle his milk as she pondered her answer. “He will, but not very much if you give him lots of love and attention.”

  Lindy smiled at Cheryl. “Like you give us?”

  “What?” Cheryl’s heart stumbled a beat as her glance flew to Lindy’s face.

  Kayla slipped her arms around Cheryl and laid her head against her side. “You give us lots of love—”

  “—like a real mommy does,” Lindy added.

  Kayla sighed wistfully, “I wish you could be our mommy.”

  “For real,” Lindy said.

  A lump rose in Cheryl’s throat. A longing she’d been unable to put into words swept over her. She stroked Kayla’s soft curls and bent to kiss the top of her head. “Darlings, that’s the sweetest thing anyone has ever said to me.”

  The fawn finished his bottle, and Lindy turned to Cheryl.

  “So, why can’t you—”

  “—stay and be our mother?”

  Cheryl stared at their upturned, trusting faces. “It’s so complicated.”

  “Don’t you like us?”

  Cheryl reached out and drew Lindy close. “Of course I do, it isn’t that.”

  “Is it ’cause you have to be a ballerina?” Kayla asked.

  “That’s part of the reason.”

  “Don’t ballerinas have kids?” Lindy looked at Cheryl with a puzzled frown.

  “Some of them do,” Cheryl admitted.

  “Then why can’t you be our mommy and a ballerina?” Kayla insisted. “You could go to work like Daddy does. Grandma would take care of us while you’re gone.”

  “Honey, it isn’t that easy.” She gazed at their eager faces. Their world was still so simple and so innocent. They would never know a brutal and unkind father because they had Sam. She had no way to make them understand what her life had been like—the shame and humiliation she had known for simply being who she was. The same shame and humiliation that waited for her now if her identity were discovered.

  She pulled the girls into a tight embrace. “I can’t stay. I wish I could, but I can’t. I love both of you very much. Always remember that. Promise me you’ll always remember that, no matter what anyone tells you.”

  “We promise,” Kayla said, and Lindy nodded.

  Sam watched Cheryl toy with her food at the supper table while the twins talked nonstop about their new pet. They finished the meal quickly and begged to be allowed to go back to the barn. A nod from him sent them running out the door.

  “You’re quiet tonight, New York. Is your foot bothering you? I noticed you got rid of your cast.”

  She gave him a weak smile. “It aches a little. This splint is lighter, and I can walk better, but it still leaves something to be desired as far as footwear goes.”

  “Oh, before I forget, you got a letter today.” He rose and searched through the stack of mail by the phone. “Here it is.”

  She stared at the long, white envelope for a moment, then took it and stuffed it in the pocket of her jeans.

  “Do you think you can ride in that splint?” Sam asked.

  “Ride?” She shot him a puzzled look.

  “I thought we might go for a ride tonight. The moon will be full. It might be fun to try it without the snow. What do you say?”

  Her eyes brightened and a smile curved her beautiful mouth. He’d never get tired of seeing her smile, he realized. The phone rang before she could answer him.

  “Hold that thought,” Sam said and answered the phone.

  “Hi, Sam.” The sound of Merci’s low voice purred in his ear.

  “Hi, Merci. What can I do for you?”

  “I was wondering if I could catch a ride to the school board meeting with you tonight? My car’s in the shop.”

  “Merci, I don’t think I can make it tonight.”

  “The bond issue is being voted on, Sam. You have to come. We need your support on this.”

  She was right. He couldn’t let his responsibility to the community slide because he wanted to go for a moonlight ride. “Okay, sure, I can give you a lift.”

  “If it’s not too much trouble, that would be wonderful.”

  Sam glanced at Cheryl. He’d much rather spend the evening with her, but he said, “It’s no trouble. I’ll see you in thirty minutes.”

  He hung up the phone and turned to Cheryl. “I’m sorry. I completely forgot about the school board meeting tonight. Maybe we can work in that ride after I get home?”

  “Sure.”

  The brightness left her eyes. She looked down and began to toy with her food again. For a minute, he was tempted to skip his meeting, but his sense of duty got the better of him. The bond issue was important to his children’s future.

  Cheryl watched Sam leave, then pulled her letter from her pocket and stared at it with dread. The phone rang again, but she let the machine pick up until the sound of a familiar voice made her grab the receiver.

  “Angie?” she asked in delight. “Oh, Angie, it’s so good to hear your voice.”

  “I just got your message, Cheryl. What’s going on? What are you doing in Council Grove? How bad are you hurt?”

  “One question at a time, sis. Where are you?”

  “San Francisco. We wanted to spend a few days here before we came back. If Jeff hadn’t called home to pick up his messages, I’d still be thinking you were dancing your way across the country. Why didn’t you call me? I left you the number of the hotel in Hawaii.”

  “And ruin your honeymoon? No way.”

  “Well, thanks for that. But I can’t believe you stayed in Council Grove all this time. The sister I know would have crawled on her bloody hands and knees all the way to New York rather than spend one night in Morris County.”

  “Believe me, I wanted to, but twelve inches of snow nixed that idea. It’s a long story, but I ended up staying and playing nanny here on the Hardin ranch.”

  “Hardin? You don’t mean Ol’ Hard-as-Nails Hardin from school, do you?”

  Cheryl smiled at the once-popular nickname for Sam’s stern, no-nonsense mother. “Her son, actually.”

  “You’ve got to be kidding! And you as a nanny? I can’t believe that.”

  Cheryl couldn’t stop the wistful note in her voice. “It’s been wonderful.”

  “Wonderful?”

  “Yeah, wonderful.”

  “Oh, honey. You’ve got it bad.”

  Cheryl didn’t pretend to misunderstand. “I’ve got it bad. For a cowboy with a pair of five-year-old twin girls,” she admitted.

  “My big sister’s in love. It’s about time. And what does the cowboy think about it?”

  “It doesn’t matter.”

  “Doesn’t matter?” Angie exclaimed. “What do you mean, it doesn’t matter? Oh, don’t tell me he’s married!”

  “No, of course not.”

  “So what’s the problem? There’s nothing wrong with cowboys or ready-made families.”

  “You know I can’t stay here.” Cheryl’s voice quivered. “I can’t face it all again. And besides, I have my career to think about.”

  “He doesn’t know who you are, does he?”

  “Does he know he’s been sheltering one of the ‘thieving Thatchers’? That he’s letting a reform-school grad babysit his kids? No, I haven’t told him. I’ve tried, but I can’t. I’m such a coward.”

  “No, you’re not. You are the bravest and best sister in the world.”

  “When will you be home?” Cheryl asked, determined to change the subject.

  “Early tomorrow afternoon.”

  Tomorrow. It would be her last day with Sam and the children. How would she bear it? Sighing, she asked, “Can you put me up for a few weeks?”

  “You know I can.”

  “Don’t you think you’d be
tter check with Jeff?”

  Angie laughed. “He’s still head over heels in love with me. If I say I want you to stay, he’ll pretend he’s thrilled.”

  Cheryl had to smile at her sister’s confidence. She sobered as she considered how to ask the next question on her mind. There wasn’t any easy way to bring up the subject. “Angie, did you know that Jake’s out of prison?”

  A long silence greeted her question. Finally, Angie said, “Yes, I knew. He was at my wedding.”

  Cheryl almost dropped the phone. “What? Are you sure? I didn’t see him. How did he know about it?”

  “Yes, I’m sure,” Angie answered calmly. “Jake knew because I invited him, and you didn’t see him because he’s as stubborn as you are.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “Let’s face it, Jake’s had the same address for fourteen years. How many letters and visits did he get from you?”

  “None,” she whispered, ashamed to admit how totally she had cut herself off from her brother.

  “He said he wouldn’t impose himself on you unless you were willing to see him. He made me promise. I tried to talk to you about him—”

  “And I refused to discuss anything about our family. I’m sorry we put you in the middle.”

  “When I didn’t invite him into the dressing room, he simply stayed out of sight in the choir loft. He was the guitarist.”

  Cheryl sank onto a kitchen chair. Such beautiful, haunting music. “I remember he used to play. I didn’t know he was so good.”

  “There are a lot of things you don’t know. Like the fact that he pled guilty and waived his right to trial in exchange for the judge going easy on you.”

  “What?” Cheryl couldn’t believe her ears.

  “He made a deal with the district attorney and took the maximum sentence in order for you to get the minimum time.”

  Cheryl rubbed a hand across her stinging eyes. This was like opening a photo album and seeing the faces of strangers on all the familiar family pictures. Her half brother had sacrificed years of his life to help her. Why?

  “I didn’t know any of this. Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “To be honest, I didn’t know it either until the last time I went to visit Harriet. Besides, I didn’t think you would approve of my staying in contact with Jake. You wanted a clean break with the past. I tried to respect your wishes. Harriet said when you were ready, you’d ask the questions, but until then, you wouldn’t be able to hear the answers.”

  “She was such a wise woman. She was right, I wouldn’t have been able to hear anything good about Jake.”

  “Cheryl, if you’re thinking about staying, we need to talk.”

  “I’m not staying!”

  She’d been hiding the truth from Sam for weeks. She couldn’t ask him to understand and forgive that. And even if by some chance he did forgive her, she couldn’t give up her career to live out here. Sam needed someone to be mother to the twins. She loved the girls, but what kind of mother could she be if she were two thousand miles away? It was a no-win situation.

  “We’ll talk in person. Not over the phone. Come and get me, Angie.”

  When Cheryl hung up the phone, she slowly unfolded her letter. It read,

  Leave or I’ll Make You Sorry.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Sam held the door open for Merci as they left the high-school gym after the meeting. The full moon had disappeared behind thick clouds, and raindrops dashed any hope he still harbored of a moonlit ride with Cheryl.

  “How about some coffee at my place?” Merci asked.

  “I don’t think so. It’s late, I should be getting home.”

  “I haven’t seen much of you lately.” Merci laid a hand on his arm. “I’ve missed you,” she said quietly.

  Sam found himself at a loss for words.

  “Actually,” she continued, “I need your professional help with something.”

  “Are you taking up cattle breeding, Merci?”

  She gave a short laugh. “No. I’m going to remodel that dinky house of mine, and I need some advice on which walls I can knock out. I’ve got the original blueprints at home. Whenever you get some time, maybe you could look at them for me.”

  The rain began coming down in earnest as Sam gazed at Merci’s hopeful face, and his conscience pricked him. Merci had been a good friend to him after his divorce. If her attentions occasionally made him uncomfortable, that was his fault, not hers. He hadn’t been ready to resume a relationship with anyone and he knew he had sometimes hurt her feelings.

  “Never mind, Sam. It can wait.”

  “No, I’d be happy to take a look at them for you.”

  He drove her to her home at the edge of town and followed her through the front door. A high-school-aged girl came out of the living room as they walked in.

  “Thanks for babysitting tonight, Susan. How much do I owe you?” Merci asked, opening her purse.

  Susan held out a lock of her waist-length blond hair with a large pink glob in it. “It’s free if you know a way to get this gum out of my hair without cutting it. Your son’s a brat!”

  “Oh, Susan, I’m so sorry.” Merci cast Sam an embarrassed look. “He’s not really a brat, he’s just spirited. Come in to the kitchen. Some peanut butter will take care of this.”

  “Peanut butter in my hair? How yuck!”

  Sam hid a laugh with a cough. “I’ll wait in the living room.”

  Sitting on the sofa, he listened to Susan list the abuses she’d endured. Brat sounded like a good description of Jimmy Slader, Jr. The peanut butter worked, but Sam doubted Susan would sit for Jimmy again anytime soon.

  He picked up the newspaper while he waited for Susan to leave. With a bark of laughter, he held it up as Merci walked into the room. “I hope you’ve read it,” he said with a smile. It was full of holes, and he wiggled a finger through one.

  Merci’s eyes widened, and she snatched it away from him. “I can’t believe Susan didn’t watch him any better than this. She knows not to let him play with scissors.”

  “I’d say she was lucky to find gum in her hair and not her hair on the floor.”

  Merci folded the paper into a tight square and sat down on the sofa beside him. “He does it to annoy me—to get attention. He’s getting to be a handful. His father never has time for him now that he has a new wife and a baby on the way. What Jimmy needs is a full-time father. You know how it is. Your girls are getting to the age when they need a mother full-time, too.”

  Sam shifted uncomfortably on the sofa. “Mom does a great job with them.”

  “Of course she does, but she’s not getting any younger. At her age, she should be enjoying herself, not running after the two of them day in and day out.”

  “She’ll let me know when it gets to be too much for her.”

  “I’m sure she will.” Merci smoothed the creases in the paper she held. “I ran into Cheryl Steele at the hospital today. Did she tell you?”

  “No, she didn’t mention it.”

  Merci smiled. “She’s ready to get out of the boonies and back to New York, isn’t she?”

  Sam frowned. “Did she say that?”

  “You can’t blame her. This is a far cry from what she’s used to.”

  “Did she say she wanted to leave?” he insisted.

  “Not in those exact words. In fact, she said she was enjoying the diversions ranch life had to offer, but she missed the excitement of the big city and her work.”

  “I’m sure she does.” Sam stared down at his boots. A diversion, was that all he was?

  “It was the strangest thing,” Merci continued. “Dr. Carter mentioned the Thatcher family, and I swear, she turned as white as a ghost. Why do you suppose that was?”

  “I have no idea. Where are those blueprints?” he asked abruptly. He didn’t intend to discuss Cheryl with Merci.

  It was late when he finally arrived home, but he found himself standing outside Cheryl’s room anyway. He raised his fist to knock,
but hesitated and lowered his hand.

  A diversion. Was he being used to help pass the time and nothing more? He didn’t believe that. Their attraction was mutual, he was sure of it. He raised his fist again, but still he hesitated.

  An attraction wasn’t the same as love. She’d never said anything about love. And neither had he.

  Could he risk telling her that he loved her, then watch her walk away as Natalie had done? Could he face that? He stuffed his hands in his pockets.

  He’d never considered himself a coward, but this scared him to death. Feeling more confused than ever, he turned away from her door and headed down the stairs.

  He was surprised to see Walter lining up a shot at the billiard table when he walked down into the rec room. Sam glanced at his watch. “What are you doing home? I thought you and Fred Barns were on for a game of checkers at the café.”

  Walter took his shot and sent the cue ball flying down the length of the table. It bounced off the cushion, rolled back and gently kissed the eight ball into the corner pocket.

  He picked up his glass of iced tea from the rail and took a drink. “Fred had to leave early. After that, the company went downhill. Jake Thatcher was there.”

  “That’s funny. Someone else mentioned the Thatchers tonight. Was he making trouble?”

  “Not by the time I left. But he rode in on a shiny, new motorcycle. Makes a man wonder where a jailbird gets that kind of money?”

  “I hear he’s been doing a good job on his grandmother’s spread. Cattle prices are up. Maybe he sold some steers.”

  “Yeah. I wonder who they belonged to? Maybe I should’ve asked him.”

  “Don’t go looking for trouble, Gramps. A man your age should have more sense.”

  “Speaking of looking for trouble, isn’t that what you’re doing?”

  “What’s that mean?”

  Walter walked around the table and began pulling the balls out of the pockets and rolling them to one end. “It means, one day I see you making eyes at a certain blonde, and tonight I see your truck parked outside the house of a certain redhead.”

  Sam walked to the table and caught the balls Walter rolled his way and placed them in the rack. He picked up a stick. “I wasn’t making eyes at anyone. Merci and I are friends. I don’t need to defend myself if I want to see her.”