by Linda Ford
“But later Mama said God might want me to answer my own prayer by being nicer to her. She showed me a verse in the Bible. ‘A man—or person—that hath friends must shew himself friendly.’”
“Did you be nice to her?” Annie asked.
“I tried.” Regret laced the words.
Wade grinned. He guessed that, just like now, she expected the other person to bend to her wishes.
“Other years, I prayed for different things for the New Year. Like Papa’s business to do well. And Mama to get over her illness.” Missy’s voice cracked.
It was all Wade could do to stop himself from reaching over the table and squeezing her hand in sympathy. Her mother had been ill, but had died in a tragic accident. Indeed, life was filled with tragedy, some of which was unavoidable. Reason enough, he thought, to give these children a good home where such things could be avoided better than he could hope to do.
“What did you pray last year?” Joey asked.
Missy’s mouth opened in surprise. “Why, I’d forgotten until just now. I asked God to give me a chance to start a new life and He has.”
Joey nodded. “I think I understand. Uncle Wade, will you help me write my prayer?” He shifted his paper toward him.
Wade picked up his pencil and prepared to write.
“Dear God,” Joey began. “I know You can’t give me back my mama and papa, but could You give me someone to love me.”
Wade’s heart cracked, and his hand refused to write the final words. He clamped his teeth together and finished the sentence. How could Joey doubt his love?
With a muffled groan Wade caught his nephew’s chin and turned his head to face him. “Joey, I love you. You know I do.” He didn’t care that Missy could hear the agony in his voice, and see it in his face if she cared to look.
“Then why do you want to leave us? Where are we going? Can we stay with Missy? That might be okay.” Hope and despair wove through Joey’s voice as he spoke.
Wade’s eyes stung. He would not look at Missy for fear of openly shedding tears and having her see him as less of a man. He cleared his throat. “Joey, all I can tell you right now is I’ll make sure you are in a good place. That’s what I promised your mama.” He pulled the boy into his arms. His heart squeezed out a meager beat as Joey remained stiff.
Wade knew his answer had not satisfied Joey, but it was the best he could give.
Annie, clinging to Missy, suddenly sat up straight. “Help me write my prayer.”
Missy picked up a pencil. Wade wondered if she felt the same degree of dread over what Annie might want as he did. But then, why should she? She did not have the same heart-and-soul connection to these children who were all that remained of his family.
His lungs tightened and his chest muscles froze, even as he forced himself to come to his senses. He reminded himself of the facts. He had spent a lot of years on his own, his solitude broken briefly by visits to his sister and her family. It wouldn’t be that hard to return to the lonely life of a cowboy.
But nothing inside him believed it.
Annie leaned over the table, watching Missy write as she dictated, “Dear God, I want to stay with Uncle Wade.”
Someone might have poured scalding water over him, so great was the burning pain he felt. Wade jolted to his feet, managed to scrape out the words “Excuse me,” and strode from the room toward the front door.
“Where’s he going?” Annie’s voice thinned with fear.
“I don’t know, but I’ll find out,” Missy said.
“Maybe he’s leaving.” Joey’s voice dripped with resignation.
Wade grabbed his coat, but before he could get his arms into the sleeves, Missy snatched it from him and returned it to the hook. “Wade Snyder, are you planning to walk out of these children’s lives?”
He had no idea if she meant now or when the adoptive couple came, but in either case, the answer was the same. “I will do what I must.”
“Why do you think you must?”
He dragged his gaze to hers, expecting a challenge. Instead, he saw sympathy that threatened his resolve. He jerked his eyes away. “I promised my sister.”
“Am I wrong in thinking you promised to give them a good home?”
He nodded.
“You can do that.”
“No, I can’t.” He reached past her, grabbed his coat again and left the house without a backward look.
He heard the door open and close behind him and knew Missy followed him. He ground his teeth together. Why couldn’t she simply accept that the decision had been made? Why couldn’t she believe he was acting out of concern for the children?
Despite his long strides, she trotted to his side. “Wade, I don’t understand why you aren’t willing to make a few sacrifices in order to give these children a home.”
He kept moving, resisting the temptation to break into an all-out run.
She dogged his every step. “All you need is a housekeeper or a wife.”
He jerked to a stop and turned to her. “Do you really presume to know what I need and offer a solution?”
Uncertainty flickered across her face for an instant, then her lips tightened and her eyes challenged him.
He didn’t give her an opportunity to answer. “You have no idea how hard it is to think of letting them go to another family. How could you? You’ve never had to face this decision. But I have my reasons and I don’t care to share them.”
Her eyes narrowed, as if assessing him. He could almost hear the gears turning in her mind as she no doubt tried to interpret his words.
He pressed his hand to his forehead. He’d just given her one more thing to gnaw on by hinting that he had other reasons he couldn’t keep the children—other than being a wandering cowboy and having no home or wife.
“Let it go,” he told her, preempting her questions.
She shook her head. “I can’t. I know what it’s like to be a nuisance and it bothers me to know these adorable children are being made to feel that way.”
“A nuisance?” Who would consider her such when she was so eager to be helpful? So loving and kind and a pleasure to watch? Grateful for the opening to divert the conversation away from himself, he asked, “Why would you feel you were a nuisance to anybody?”
She looked away, perhaps thinking of denying her words, then shrugged her shoulders and brought her gaze back to him. “When my parents died my brother became my reluctant guardian. He never let me forget that he didn’t much care for the role that had been thrust upon him.” She swallowed loudly. “I was a necessary nuisance.” Fire came to her eyes. “Of course, Vic saw me as a tempting morsel. He wanted me, but not because he cared.” She crossed her arms over her chest and looked away.
“Who is Vic?”
“Vic Hector was my brother’s partner. A snake of a person. He thought I was part of the bargain when he and Gordie threw in together. A few weeks ago, he moved into our house. He thought he owned Louise, too. You know what he told her?” Fury colored Missy’s words and brought a blush of pink to her cheeks. “He said he would sell her baby as soon as it was born. Can you imagine?” Her body nearly shook with anger.
“Vic is the reason we fled to the Eden Valley Ranch,” she continued. “God helped us escape and led us through the journey. He provided a place for baby Chloe to be born.” Missy pinned Wade with a hard look that blasted through his defenses and pierced his thoughts. He tried in vain to rebuild the barriers, but was distracted by the way her fists balled and her breath came in bursts.
“Don’t you see? God can provide a way for you to keep Annie and Joey if you but ask.”
“I expect He could. However, I am not going to ask.”
“Because you have your reasons?”
“That’s correct.”
She gasped and her eyes narrowed.
“You said you were married. I assumed your wife was dead. Was I mistaken?” She pressed her hand to his arm.
He shook it off. “You understand nothing. My wife is dead. Has been for six years.” His head told him to leave, to walk away from this conversation, but his feet remained rooted to the ground.
“Dead? Then I don’t understand why you don’t remarry or—”
Would she not drop the subject? She was like a dog with a tasty bone. “Are you applying for the job?”
“Me?” Missy stepped back two feet. “No. I won’t ever again be a necessary burden to someone. No.” She shook her head hard. “I would never settle for a marriage of convenience, which is what you are suggesting.”
He lifted one shoulder. He hadn’t suggested it at all. He simply wanted her to stop insisting that he should find a way to keep the children. “It’s what you’re suggesting on my behalf.”
“That’s different.”
“How?”
She didn’t get the opportunity to answer as, in the distance, the house door banged shut.
She jerked her gaze away. “The children... Are you coming back in?”
When he didn’t answer, she met his eyes again, her own full of hopes and wishes and, as he looked deeper, a hint of a challenge. He averted his gaze before she could see his doubt, the depth of his failure, his sorrow, the emptiness of his heart.
If only he could allow himself to think of marrying again. It would enable him to keep the children.
But both were out of the question.
* * *
Missy walked back toward the house. She hoped Wade would follow, but whether or not he did, there were two children there wondering why the adults who were in charge of them had disappeared. No doubt they would fear being left.
She well understood the feeling. For months after her parents had died, her insides had knotted whenever Gordie was late returning home. She’d worried about being alone. At least Gordie had to give her a home. What would have become of her if he hadn’t been there?
She shook the thought away. That time was no more and would never be again, because she meant to have a way of being on her own. If only she could give the same security to the children. But they were so young they would need a home for years to come.
Wade didn’t have to enter a marriage of convenience, but surely he could court a young woman of his liking who cared about the children.
He’d neatly avoided her question as to why he wouldn’t remarry. Curiosity made Missy’s steps slow and she half turned, intending to ask him the question again. But he was on her heels and hurried past her to hold the door open.
“The children await,” he said.
She took her time entering the house as she studied him. “Something awful must have happened.”
He met her look with wide-eyed innocence, as if he didn’t understand what she meant. She might have been convinced except for the twitch at the corner of his right eye. Maybe if she discovered what had happened, she could help him see it didn’t matter when it came to the children.
She didn’t get the chance.
“They’re back!” Annie crowed, rushing to her uncle, who swung her into his arms. Joey, however, hung back, a wary look on his face.
Missy removed her coat, then bent over to hug the boy. “I’m sorry we took so long. We were talking.”
He remained stiff.
She understood his uncertainty about his uncle Wade and even her. “Joey, I promise you I won’t leave without telling you. Nor will your uncle.” She glanced over her shoulder, hoping Wade would follow her lead.
He knelt beside her. “I promise you that, too.” He held out an inviting hand to Joey, who shrugged away from him.
“But you will leave.” A shudder rattled through the boy, and Missy almost considered settling for a marriage of convenience for the sake of giving these children the home and security they so desperately needed. Only the searing memories of her past stopped her.
Her eyes lingering on the sullen child, she straightened. “Who wants to hear about the rest of what my family did?”
“I do.” Annie jumped up and down.
Missy kept a hand on Joey’s shoulder as she led them toward the kitchen. “We made up plays. Would you like to do that?”
Annie bounced ahead. Wade stayed at Missy’s side, his attention mostly on Joey. But when he briefly glanced at her, she knew she wasn’t mistaken in seeing sorrow and regret in his eyes, as deep as the ocean.
He loved these children. He didn’t want to part with them. But something had happened to convince him he must. Again she vowed she would find out what.
Having made up her mind, she entered the kitchen. Then her steps faltered. It was the same room she’d been in many times since arriving at the ranch. The same sage and dill scent. The same polished black stove and array of coats on hooks next to the back door, where the men normally came in from doing chores. Even the same basket of potatoes on the cupboard.
But it was not the same room from which she’d followed Wade. Three chairs were overturned. The papers they’d written memories and prayers on had been torn to shreds and scattered across the floor. One pencil lay broken in two beside a table leg.
Thankfully the others weren’t there to witness the scene. Linette might have been offended at the way her home had been treated, and Grady frightened at the anger displayed.
Wade strode into the room and took in the destruction, then slowly turned to confront the children.
Annie sidled close to Missy.
Joey stood alone and defiant.
“What happened here?” Wade started off sounding surprised, but ended on a harsh note. “Who is responsible for this mess?”
“Joey said—” Annie began.
Wade silenced her. “No tattling. Joey, is this your work?”
“What if it is?” Anger, frustration and emotions Missy couldn’t name flew across Joey’s expression, and her insides clenched in sorrow.
“I don’t care if you leave. I don’t need you. I don’t need anybody.” Joey threw the words out boldly, but failed to convince Missy he meant them.
She guessed from the strained look on Wade’s face he was no more convinced than she. Oh, Wade, listen to your heart. Find a way. They’re worth it.
At Joey’s words, Annie pressed hard to Missy’s side.
Overwhelmed by a thousand memories of sharing the same uncertainties, anger and sorrow of these children, she grabbed the nearest chair and sat down. Annie climbed to her lap and they clung to each other. How sweet the comfort from those trusting arms.
Missy wanted to pull Joey to her knee as well, knowing he was frustrated and had turned it to anger. But Wade must deal with him first.
Please, God, let Wade see this for what it is. A cry for assurance.
Wade sat on a chair facing his nephew. “I understand you’re upset and worried, but you can’t do this. It’s wrong. A person must control anger, not let it control them.”
“Who says?” Joey gave him a defiant look.
“Me.”
“Why should I listen to you? You don’t care about us. We’re just a nuisance.”
At the word Missy had recently used, Wade’s gaze came to hers—so full of sadness and despair, she slid her chair close. He was hurting every bit as much as Joey and Annie. Missy’s arms ached to be able to comfort all of them. They were each hurting, trapped by something out of their control. At least that was the way she thought they all viewed the situation. She pressed her hand to Wade’s arm and gave him a look that she hoped conveyed her sympathy.
“You are what these children need,” she whispered to him. “You can be what they need. For your sake as much as theirs.”
His eyes searched hers, seeking assurance that her words were true, perhaps even
seeking courage to follow the path that would keep them together.
He smiled, though there was more regret than joy in the expression. He turned back to Joey. “You aren’t a nuisance to me, and you should listen to me because I’m your uncle and I care about you.” He reached for the boy, but Joey again shrugged away.
“No, you don’t. You’re just saying that.” He kicked the nearest object, which happened to be the back of an overturned chair.
Wade gave Missy a helpless look, as if to ask what he should do.
She didn’t know how to help them. He knew the children far better than she. All she could go on was her own experiences. In this position she’d want...
She’d want what she couldn’t have—her parents. Someone who loved her more than their own pursuits. Maybe Wade didn’t deserve these children, for he’d made it as clear as the air atop the mountains that his interests were more important than their needs.
Except she was convinced there was something more than personal interests holding Wade back, just as it had with Gordie.
Wade gave a slight nod, as if accepting that Missy had nothing to offer. He turned back to the boy. “Joey, I love you. You know that.”
The boy grunted in disbelief.
“However,” Wade continued, “I cannot allow destructive behavior such as this. You will clean it up, then when Mrs. Gardiner comes down, you will apologize for breaking her pencil.”
Joey glowered at Wade and made no move toward obeying.
Missy held her breath, waiting to see what Wade would do if the boy outright defied him.
Wade continued to look at him, his expression firm but unyielding.
Joey shuffled his feet, then with a drawn-out sigh put the chairs aright, gathered up the scraps of paper and took them to the stove.
Annie leaned back to look at their uncle. “Joey said you weren’t coming back. I said you were. He said maybe this time but not next time.” Annie’s voice caught and she turned back to Missy arms, sobbing. Through her tears she managed to get out a few muffled words. “He said you didn’t care and then he got mad.”
Joey scowled at his sister. “Tattletale.” He was about to say more, but at a warning look from Wade, settled for wrinkling his nose. “Who cares? Christmas is over and it wasn’t any fun.”