The Cowboy's Family

by Minton, Brenda

  “What stuff?” This time he did look her way, his brow arched in question.

  “Party stuff. We’re going to decorate for tomorrow.” Molly clasped her hands together and leaned toward her daddy. No way would he deny that little smile.

  “I tell you what, you girls decorate. I’ll order from the Mad Cow and bring it home for us.” He shifted to face her. “If you write down what the three of you want and call in the order, I’ll run upstairs for a quick shower and a change of clothes.”

  In a month, life would be ordinary again, missing them, missing Dawson. Rachel smiled because it didn’t do her or the girls any good to let those thoughts take over.

  He smiled back and then he left. She watched him leave, wondering how much pain he was in. He hid it well, his pain. The girls were tugging on her, asking questions about the cake and ice cream that she promised to make. Homemade, with strawberries, of course.

  The oven timer went off. She grabbed an oven mitt and pulled out the cake. Strawberry pink. She put it on the top of the stove. The aroma filled the air, even stronger than when it had been baking. Both girls were off their stools and standing a short distance away.

  Rachel wanted cake. She wanted chocolate. She really wanted to not be this new person she’d created, the one who jogged instead of eating cheesecake when she was depressed.

  “It’s going to be good.” Molly grinned big.

  “It is going to be good. And we’ll put pink icing on it and pretty stuff.”

  “Flowers? And a ballerina?”

  Rachel smiled. “Yes, flowers and ballerinas. We bought those in Tulsa, remember?”

  “Bought what?”

  Wyatt stood in the doorway dressed in khaki shorts and a T-shirt. His feet were bare and his hair still damp from the shower. His tanned skin looked darker thanks to the white T-shirt.

  “Decorations for the cake.” Rachel ached inside because something had happened, something was gone and she knew she’d miss it for a long, long time after she left Dawson.

  The thin thread of connection they’d shared had been broken. Because she was leaving and he didn’t want his girls hurt. She didn’t want them hurt either.

  She was torn. Did anyone get that? She felt so responsible for her parents. She loved this town. She smiled at Kat and Molly. She loved them.

  “Did you make the list of what we want to eat?”

  She picked up a pen and grabbed a tablet from the basket on the counter. “Okay, what does everyone want?”

  She didn’t look at him and she hoped he wasn’t looking at her. Kat jumped up and down and said, “I want fries.”

  “More than that, Kat.” Wyatt smiled at his daughter.

  Rachel wrote down the rest of the order. “I’ll call Vera.”

  “Okay, let me know how long it’ll be. I promised the girls they could ride their pony for a few minutes.”

  Both girls shouted and started to jump around the room. Wyatt smiled, watching them. And Rachel watched him. Molly and Kat ran into the laundry room to pull on boots and hats. And suddenly Rachel didn’t know what to do, didn’t know where she fit.

  She knew she never wanted to leave here. The thought settled deep, like most bad thoughts. How many times had she moved as a kid? She’d lost track.

  But she wasn’t sixteen looking for a place to start over. She was nearly thirty and some unseen clock was ticking an unfamiliar beat, one she hadn’t expected.

  Once again her gaze traveled to that cowboy. It was his fault, that much was obvious. It felt pretty good to blame him for making this difficult.

  Kat and Molly returned wearing their boots and with cowboy hats on their heads. She smiled at little faces that were starting to tan. They had matching braids that stuck out from beneath their hats. Cowgirl hats, Molly had informed her, were important for cowgirls. They had bought one for Rachel, too.

  She didn’t look as cute in a cowgirl hat as they did.

  She wouldn’t need one in Tulsa. She turned away from the happy scene and started dishwater for the few mixing bowls and spoons she’d used to make the cake.

  Footsteps behind her. She felt him close, felt the warmth of his exhaled breath, inhaled the spicy cologne he wore. His hand touched her arm.

  “You okay?” His voice was close to her ear and she nodded, looking out the window at the barn, at fields with grazing livestock, at the dog sleeping under the shade of an oak tree.

  “Yeah, I’m good.”

  “No, you’re not.”

  She shook her head. She wasn’t at all good. She was breaking inside, not just her heart but all of her. Because she loved them. She loved the girls and she loved him and for a few brief weeks she’d been a part of their lives, a part of their family. She didn’t want to leave them, or Dawson.

  She closed her eyes and waited for an answer, even a whisper. Nothing. Of course nothing, God knew. He had known this plan and He knew the rest of the untold story. He knew how much it hurt.

  “I’m going to take the girls outside.” His hand dropped from her arm. “You were good for us.”

  She closed her eyes and listened to him walking away from her. She wanted him to beg her to stay. Of course he wouldn’t do that. He wanted her help finding a replacement because she really was just the housekeeper and the nanny. She wasn’t a part of his family.

  She wasn’t… She opened her eyes and watched him with the girls, watched him hug them, watched him pick Kat up and set her on his shoulders, grimacing just a little as she settled.

  She wasn’t the woman he loved. How could she stay here working for him, feeling the way she felt? How could she stay here when she knew that her parents needed her?

  In the end it was easier to walk outside and pretend she wasn’t leaving. It was easier to watch the girls laugh as Wyatt led them on the pony and pretend she would always be in their lives.

  Chapter Sixteen

  The birthday party had been a pretty big success thanks to Prince the pony. Wyatt sat back in the lawn chair and watched some of the last visitors leave. He smiled at the sight of the poor pony with pink and purple ribbons in his mane and tail. That had been Rachel’s idea. It had seemed pretty goofy to him, to do that to the poor pony. The kids had felt differently about it. Little girls loved ribbons. He’d have to remember that.

  Little girls loved pink cakes and balloons. They loved pretty dresses and dolls, even when they were cowgirls with ponies and stock dogs. Rachel had taught him that about his daughters. She had taught him a few things about himself, too.

  Someone sat down next to him. He turned and smiled at Robert Waters, Rachel’s father. The older man smiled back and stretched long legs in front of him. He wore his customary slacks and button-up shirt.

  Wyatt glanced down at his own khaki shorts and leather flip-flops. He smiled at Rachel’s dad.

  “Glad you were here.” Not so glad to hear that you’re leaving. Since that wasn’t common knowledge, Wyatt didn’t mention it.

  “Wyatt, Rachel told me that she shared with you that we’re leaving. The elders know and a few others. I’ll make the announcement tomorrow.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that you’re going.” Wyatt let out a sigh and shook his head. “The church hoped you’d stay a long time.”

  “You know as well as I do that we can never make plans for God.” Robert crossed his left leg over his right knee, still relaxed, always relaxed. He was about the calmest man Wyatt had ever met.

  “Yeah, things do happen without our permission.”

  “Have you given any more thought to the youth ministry? When I asked you to do that, I didn’t know we were going to be leaving. I guess God did.”

  “I’ve thought about it. And yeah, I think I’m ready. I still have moments when I question God. He could have stopped her.”

  “No one blames you for that. I imagine we could all put together a list of things we question God over. Why someone we loved died in a car accident or why someone had to die young. And the only answer is that sin entere
d the world and we are allowed free will. We make choices that change lives.”

  Wyatt fought a real strong urge to say something about this move and if it was really what God wanted or was he giving Pastor Waters freedom to choose, right or wrong. But he knew that Robert Waters was a praying man. He didn’t make hasty decisions. He followed what he felt God wanted for him.

  He didn’t want this man to leave. But maybe it really had been God’s plan to have Pastor Waters in Dawson for this season to do the things he needed to do here before moving somewhere else where God had another plan.

  “This isn’t going to be an easy move for us.” Pastor Waters sighed at the end of the sentence and shook his head. “Rachel loves Dawson. She loves taking care of your girls.”

  “They love her, too.”

  Pastor Waters glanced his way and smiled. “I guess you’ve asked her to consider staying?”

  “I have, but she won’t.”

  “No, I didn’t figure she would.”

  Family issues, everyone had them. For Wyatt it was all about making his girls his first priority. His parents had never made that a rule. For his parents, life had been about parties and what made them happy. Their two boys were pictures they showed when they wanted to brag about something other than money or the land they owned.

  He’d never be his parents. He ran the family business from a distance and his girls came first. Especially now.

  Across the lawn Violet and Rachel were cleaning up the leftover party favors, the empty cups and paper plates that were blowing off the picnic table. They talked in quiet whispers like two old friends.

  That scene made him a little itchy on the inside, so he turned to search for his girls. They were swinging, feet dangling and party crowns still on their heads. Molly had the biggest crown, the queen crown. And each girl had pink satin ballerina slippers.

  He’d never seen so much pink in one place.

  “I think I’ll go check on my girls.” He pushed himself out of the chair, wincing a little at the catch in his ribs and the pull across his lower back. He’d never been so glad to see a horse go as he had been to watch that buckskin loaded into the trailer yesterday afternoon.

  He would have kept the animal around if Ryder had been able to take over training for a week or two. But they both had different priorities now.

  “Molly, did you have a good birthday?” He stood behind his daughters, pushing one and then the other.

  “The bestest one ever.” Molly looked back at him, smiling big.

  His gaze traveled the short distance to Rachel Waters. The bestest ever. He decided to feel a little angry with her and with God because she was going to leave them empty again.

  Last night he’d had to tell the girls. They’d both cried and Molly had begged him to make Rachel stay. She wouldn’t, he’d explained. She had responsibilities. Molly asked him what that word meant. He’d had to find a way to explain it to a four-year-old.

  Things that matter. Responsibility is the things that we have to do because they matter, they come first. Family, the farm, a job. Those were responsibilities. Molly wanted to be Rachel’s responsibility.

  The things that come first.

  Rachel laughed, the sound carrying. He tried to picture this yard, this house and their lives with her gone.

  They’d be empty again.

  He gave Kat an easy push. No, they wouldn’t be empty. They would still have each other. And they’d have something else. They had the ability to move on and to laugh.

  Two weeks after Molly’s party, Rachel walked through a ranch house on the outskirts of Tulsa, just a few blocks from her dad’s new church. The church was larger than any he’d ever pastored. The benefits were clearly the best. It was something wonderful for her parents. It meant having a real retirement and security.

  It meant great medical care.

  It meant Rachel moving into a small bedroom with purple carpet and green walls. Obviously a teenager had been here. Rachel felt a little dizzy, standing in the center of that room.

  “It’s a nice little house.” Her mother stood at the window looking out at the tiny little yard. Rachel didn’t want to look. She knew what she’d see outside that window. She’d had views like this before.

  She would see other houses, back to back, side to side. She would see privacy fences and manicured shrubs. There would be a patio and eventually patio furniture. Her dog would go on a leash and they’d take walks around the neighborhood. They would talk to strangers who would possibly become friends.

  They would adjust. They always did.

  And she would live this life until? Until her parents no longer needed her. She smiled at her mom, who hadn’t looked this happy in a long time. The idea of a big church with a large staff had taken a burden off her mother.

  Gloria Waters wouldn’t feel guilty, as if she was letting her husband or his congregation down because she couldn’t take a more active role in the ministry. Rachel wanted to tell her mother that they had her, she took that burden. She carried that weight for them.

  Cynthia, her sister, had called that morning as they drove into Tulsa. She had given Rachel a lecture about being a martyr because she didn’t want to take chances in life. It was easy to stay with their parents, to not get involved in real life.

  Rachel had ended the conversation with a blunt “Goodbye.”

  It was easy for Cynthia. Life had always been easy for the pretty blonde with the stick figure and the outgoing personality. Cynthia had married her college sweetheart. She’d never been rejected.

  Her dad stuck his head around the corner. “Nice room.”

  Rachel smiled. “Love the colors.”

  “I thought you would.” He stepped into the room. “You can paint if you want.”

  “I know.” She smiled, pretending to love the idea of painting another room.

  She would be thirty in a few months. Thirty and living with her parents. What did people think? Did they think she was somehow defective? Did they get that she wanted to be here to help?

  “Let’s take a walk around the neighborhood.” Rachel’s dad reached for her hand. “I think there’s a pool down the block.”

  “Dad, I’m not fifteen.”

  He laughed a little. “Yeah, I know. But swimming is great exercise. You can jog one day and swim the next.”

  She remembered this from her teen years. Her parents always broke the news about moving by telling them how great the new place would be. Eventually Rachel stopped caring. She stopped seeing the moves as an adventure. It became about having to learn a new school, make new friends and reinvent herself each time.

  She no longer reinvented.

  But she did go for a walk with her dad. He held Wolfgang’s leash and they took their time, letting the dog sniff all of the new scents.

  “Rachel, have you prayed about this move?”

  “What do you mean?”

  He stopped while the dog took particular interest in a sign post. “I mean, have you prayed for yourself? Is this move what you’re supposed to do?”

  “Dad, we’re here. I’m here.”

  Her dad continued to walk and she stayed next to him, whistling to get the dog’s attention when it appeared a little too interested in a neighbor’s cat. That wouldn’t be a good way to start this new life.

  “Rachel, I want you to make a decision based on what you want.”

  “What I want is to be here helping you and Mom.”

  “I’m not sure about that. I kind of wonder if you aren’t sacrificing your own happiness because of some sense of duty to your mother and me.”

  “You’ve been talking to Cynthia.” Rachel took Wolfgang’s leash because she needed to control something. Her life was obviously out of the question.

  “I talked to Rob and Cynthia. They’re both concerned that you’re giving up what you want because you feel as if we need you.”

  “That’s nice of them.” The brother and sister who visited once a year suddenly knew what was best
for her and for their parents.

  The thought was unfair, but at the moment she didn’t feel like being fair.

  “Rachel, I’m about to do something I should have done a long time ago. I’m pushing you from the nest.”

  “Pushing me?”

  She wasn’t stupid, but seriously, where had this come from?

  “Rachel, years ago God called me to this ministry. He called me. He called your mother with me. We had children. Now our children are grown and it is time for you, my daughter, to find your own place. Your mother and I can take care of ourselves. We took care of you. We really are able to handle life.”

  “But when Mom is sick…”

  He smiled and she felt ten again. “Rachel, I’m her husband. I can take care of her. Go and live your life, make your own choices. When I took this position I knew it was right for me, right for your mother. I think you have to pray about the right place for you.”

  “Here.” She held tight to the leash and fought tears that burned her eyes.

  “If that’s what God’s plan is, fine. With us, in Tulsa, or back in Dawson, it doesn’t matter as long as you know it’s the right place for you.” He kissed her cheek. “Go do something for yourself, Rachel. Eat chocolate, find something you love. Or someone you love. Stop using us as an excuse to avoid your own life.”

  “Ouch.”

  He laughed a little. “Sorry, but the truth can hurt. You pray and if, after you pray, you honestly feel like it is God’s will for you to move here, then I’ll accept that.”

  “I’m starting to get a very big hint.” The hint that her parents would like to be alone.

  “I thought you might.”

  Right, so where did that leave her?

  Wyatt backed the trailer up to the corral gate, watching the side mirrors as he eased back. He stopped when the open gate hit the back of the trailer. Perfect.

  The dog that had followed next to his truck started to bark. Wyatt turned off the truck and watched Rachel’s car easing up the drive. He let out a shallow breath, still not taking deep breaths because his ribs wouldn’t give that much. He stepped out of the truck and waited for her to get out of her car.