by Maddie James
A career that used his artistic talents was a distant memory, an abandoned road that he didn’t lament. Quite the opposite, he turned to his sketchbooks or canvases to bleed his emotions or dissolve his stress.
Noticing the way he’d naturally divided the page into halves, both horizontally and vertically, he turned his focus to the upper left, empty quadrant. He touched the end of the charcoal to the paper and closed his eyes waiting for inspiration to strike. His first thought—Hailey—flashed through his brain. He tried to push it away. In the same way she’d fought back with him in the diner that morning, her images remained. He opened his eyes and exorcised those demons the only way he knew, by spilling them onto the page.
The curve of her face. The way her hair framed her cheeks and touched her shoulders. Her full lips and round eyes. They all bled from his memory to the page with an ease that was unnerving to him.
When he finished he was amazed by the likeness he’d created, especially since it all came from memory.
A pair of headlights flashed through the west window shaking his attention from the sketch and pulling him back into the real world.
Just as they were sitting down to dinner, Anna had been called back to the stable because a horse had colic. Lori had begged to go help, but he’d denied the request, thinking the horse’s treatment would continue long into the night. He was pleased for his sister and for the horse that he’d been wrong.
If Anna was already home, it couldn’t have been serious. Knowing she would be hungry, he made his way to the kitchen to warm up the plate he’d set aside for her.
A heavy knock on the front door signaled it was someone else, so he put the plate back in the refrigerator.
In the front entry, he flipped on the porch light and then pulled the worn, lime green curtain aside. Under the soft yellow glow, stood Hailey.
Light fluffy snow blew from the roof, cascading around her. She looked like a delicate flower—one that would whither in the cold—her hands were pushed into the pockets of the same suede coat she’d worn earlier. The dark brown scarf hung over her shoulders untied. And she was staring up where the Christmas lights hung off the edge of the roof.
Sad didn’t properly describe the way she looked. It went deeper than that.
Surprising, given how hot she’d been when she stomped out of the diner. What shocked him more was his first desire: to slide his fingers under her chin, lift her mouth toward him, and kiss her.
Just one more time.
He dug deep for resolve, reminding himself she stood in the way of him taking possession of the farm. She wasn’t here for a walk down memory lane or to rekindle the smoldering embers of his heart.
She was most likely here to state yet again why she didn’t want to let go of the farm. Why she’d rather see it sit empty then let him and Lori live there.
He readied himself to stand tall against her and then pulled open the door. “What do you want?”
She shook her head, opened her mouth to speak, and then clamped it shut. The edge of her mouth turned down and she twisted the heel of her boot against the concrete. “You’re wrong about me.”
The words he understood, but not her tone. She sounded absolutely miserable. “What are you talking about?”
“What you said in the diner. About me always running away. That’s not fair.”
He reclaimed the ground between them he’d relinquished. Pushing open the screen door, he stepped onto the porch. “Do you remember things differently than I do?”
Her chest heaved and she tipped her chin to the right.
A tinge of guilt pinged at Nate when he saw just how his words had penetrated Hailey’s shell.
She’d ripped his heart out all those years ago, but the idea that he’d hurt her cut at him. It didn’t change the way he felt about their past but the desire to take her in his arms—comfort her—bubbled up again.
“We were young.” She started down the steps, but paused at the bottom, turning back. “I made some very stupid choices and I’m sorry for that.”
An apology had been the last thing he expected when he’d seen her standing on the porch and while it probably should have been enough, it wasn’t. Instead, it only opened more questions about the past. “You came all the way over here to tell me that?”
Hailey slid her hand through her hair, pulling it off her face and shaking her head. “No. But then I saw you and…well…we were both a lot younger then.”
Nate fought the urge to laugh. It wasn’t funny that she was so conflicted, but ironic that he wasn’t the only one haunted by the past. It seemed it had them both hanging in the wind.
They needed to talk it out if they were to ever move forward. He reached out and took her elbow. “Come in out of the snow. I’ll make a pot of coffee.”
She accepted the invitation. After slipping off her coat, she handed it to him, before stepping over the threshold and heading for the couch.
Nate ran his fingers over the suede. It was as soft as he’d imagined it would be. He hung it on the coat tree and then peeked around the corner. Hailey had made herself comfortable in the living room, as if she’d been here a thousand times before.
In his dreams, she had.
Just moments ago, angst had her fleeing for her car. Now, her eyes flickered back and forth between the tree and him.
“How do you like your coffee?”
She tapped the cushion next to her. “Please. I don’t want you to wait on me. That’s not why I came.”
A piece of him wanted to be compassionate, sit next to her and tell her it was okay, that he was glad she was here. He set that aside; reminded himself not to get mesmerized by her.
He had to stand tall, for Lori. If Hailey didn’t let him move into her father’s house, his daughter wouldn’t get what she needed to improve her speech. “Then why did you come?”
“To talk.”
“But not about the past?” Again the words of his heart slipped past his lips before his brain had the chance to censor them. It felt good to unload the burdens he’d been harboring, but when she rebuffed him by turning her head and closing her eyes, regret filled the space vacated in his chest.
“I didn’t mean to hurt you. Back then, I mean.”
So, they were really going to talk about this. He crossed to his chair and sat down. “It was a long time ago. A lot has happened… for both of us.”
She gave him a slight nod. “I really came to talk to you about Dad and the house. I want you to know that I’m not angry at you, just the situation.”
He felt the tension drain from his shoulders. What she was going through had to be hard. No matter how much it hurt to look at her now, he didn’t get joy from what she’d had to deal with in the last year. “I understand this is hard for you. I can’t imagine being in your shoes and having to come to terms with one of my parents getting too old to care for themselves—”
“That’s the thing, I don’t believe he is. He might not be as sharp as he was five or six years ago, but—”
“Were you even in the diner today? Couldn’t you see him slipping away?”
She gripped her chin, shaking her head just a bit. “I don’t know. I guess. He got a little confused with me too, but I haven’t seen anything with my own to eyes yet that has confirmed for me he can’t take care of himself.”
He could see she was struggling, but just because she hadn’t seen it, didn’t mean the events hadn’t happened. “Did Jake tell you about him getting disoriented in the diner a few weeks ago?”
She nodded. “And it’s not that I don’t believe you or Jake. I just have this little voice inside me telling me it’s wrong to put Dad in a nursing home.”
“I think you would see things differently if you were here every day.”
“Maybe you’re right. That’s my point. Maybe it’s the lawyer in me, but I want to see it with my own eyes, or have something that convinces me it’s the right step to take. I want to know in my heart he can’t take care of himself, a
nd I haven’t had any of that happen yet.”
“I think that’s a little naive.”
“Excuse me?”
“Unfortunately, life isn’t about a collection of easy choices and flat paved roads. There are ups and downs. We get banged up and scratched. And the right choices are sometimes the most difficult to make.”
“I’m sorry for what I did back then.”
He hadn’t been talking about the past, but when she apologized yet again, he realized what he said fit the moment. “You’ve said that. A few times now.”
“I mean it. And I don’t always run away.”
“Maybe I shouldn’t have said that.” Truth. It had felt good to call Hailey out on her inability to face him. But, being right didn’t justify kicking her while life had laid her out on her butt. “I was frustrated. Jake says your father is going into Pioneer. He and Kelly need to lease out the property to help pay for his care. I need to get a house outside of town with enough space to get my daughter a horse. This arrangement is a perfect answer to all our problems.”
“So I should stand by and put my dad in a nursing home so you can get your kid a horse?”
Nate couldn’t just sit in the chair and take it anymore. He found his feet. “You’re living in a dream world. You always have. Even I can see how much your father’s health has declined since your mother died. Now, I can totally get why you wouldn’t want to see that, but the only one you’re hurting by not facing the truth is your dad. And my kid. Mess up your family all you want, but I’ll be damned if I just step aside and let you hurt mine.”
“Daddy!” Lori’s shrill voice cut through the room, so loud it seemed to rattle the windows.
Nate turned and started for the hall but twisted back to Hailey. He spoke with determination. “Do not leave! We’re not done, yet.”
Lori was sitting up in bed, her eyes squeezed shut and her hands clutching the quilt. She screamed for him again, rocking back and forth.
He pushed a knee to the side of the bed and leaned over her, wrapping his arms around her neck. “Shhh. It’s okay.”
The nightmares weren’t new. She’d been having them regularly for nearly a year and a half. They started about the same time his parents moved out and retired to Arizona. About the same time her stammering had started.
Before that, Nate had shared the bedroom with Lori. He’d just begun looking for a place for the two of them—citing that Lori was getting too old to have to share a room with her father—when his parents announced their plans to move out west.
His father’s emphysema had been growing worse—still Nate suspected they’d pushed ahead their plans to move to a warmer, drier climate to make things easier on him. Either way, Lori’s social circle had been cut in half.
The grandparents she’d adored were gone. As her speech deteriorated, phone conversations grew impossible. The less contact she had with them, the more frequent the nightmares had become.
“Daddy’s here, baby. Take a deep breath.”
She opened her eyes and the terror that had been on her face melted to something different. She collapsed against him, whimpering.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
She shook her head against his shoulder.
He squeezed her a little tighter and slid his fingers through her long hair, trying to untangle the knots that formed during her fitful sleep.
“Nate, is there anything I can do to help?”
Hailey’s voice.
He flipped his attention toward her. “Just wait in the other room.”
The words came harsher than was warranted, but he’d been specific in his instructions and didn’t appreciate the intrusion in his daughter’s sanctuary.
Hailey might get a lot of leeway from him, might always hold a special place in his heart no matter how hard he fought it, but she didn’t supersede the needs of his daughter.
No how. No way.
Lori folded her shoulders, no doubt trying to melt into his chest, to disappear from the prying eyes of the stranger. He tried to reassure her but had to reach for the words. “It’s okay, she’s a friend of mine.”
She leaned back enough that he could see her hands. I’ve never seen her before.
“It’s been a long time since I’ve seen her too. She doesn’t live around here anymore. Only in town to see her dad because it’s Christmas.”
If you don’t see her, how is she a friend?
“We knew each other when we were in school together.”
Is she nice?
Nate slid a finger down her nose, debating the question even though he had a clear answer. “Yes. She is.”
After the words had slipped through his mouth, he wondered if Hailey was still in the doorway to hear them. A quick check over his shoulder confirmed she’d done as he asked this time.
He lifted Lori’s chin and looked down into his daughter’s tear streaked face. “What are you afraid of, baby?”
Scary dream.
He kissed her forehead and pushed her hair back over her shoulder. “You know I won’t let anything bad happen to you. Don’t you?”
She nodded her head and then collapsed back into him, hugging his neck.
“Do you want a drink of water?”
She nodded again.
Nate found his feet and picked her up off the bed, balancing her on his hip. She tightened her grip and laid her head against his shoulders.
He paused in the hall, leaning back against the wall, trying to collect his emotions. Of all the trials he’d endured, nothing—not even what Hailey had done to him—hurt as bad as seeing Lori in pain or watching her struggle with the simplest things. If possible, he’d take every hurt for her.
His resolve cemented in his gut. Anything he’d felt for Hailey way back when couldn’t influence this moment.
He felt bad for the difficult situation Hailey was in, but Lori’s needs came first. Without question.
If only he could help Hailey see the truth about Bill.
The living room was empty.
He should have known she’d run again. Then, the smell of sweet chocolate hit his senses. He rounded the corner and found Hailey at his stove. “What are you doing?”
Hailey turned to face him. Taking a dishtowel from where it hung on the handle of the oven door, she wiped her hands, stumbling for something to say. “I hope you don’t mind. I thought that maybe your daughter would like some cocoa. My mom used to make it for me after I had a nightmare.”
Nate tightened his hold on Lori and took two long strides toward the table. Pulling out a chair, he set her down. “I usually don’t let her have sweets this late at night.”
Wedging his way between Hailey and the stove, he took the pan from the burner and turned the flame off. The kindness of her actions doused the acidic flames burning his stomach, but he didn’t want that. Even though he told Lori that Hailey was nice, remembering just how kind she could be made it harder to fight for what he wanted.
Looking back over his shoulder, he asked, “Would you like some?”
Lori folded her shoulders, trying to make herself look smaller in the chair and signed a simple yes.
“She’d like that. Thanks.”
“How about her daddy? Is he allowed?”
It did smell delicious, and he couldn’t remember the last time he’d had a cup that wasn’t made from one of those envelopes of instant powder. He was actually flabbergasted that she’d found baking chocolate in his cupboard. “Sure.”
Hailey went about pouring her concoction into the cups and sprinkling tiny marshmallows on top. Again, where did that come from? His sister must have a sugar stash he knew nothing about.
He turned back to the table and grinned at Lori. Pulling out the chair she was sitting in he lifted her in the air. After he took the seat, he brought her back down to his lap.
Her giggle—music to his ears—reminded him of the light in his life. Confirmed what was important.
Hailey set the cocoa on the table and the
n dropped to the chair next to him and Lori. She sipped slowly from the cup, seemingly enjoying the aroma as well as the taste. As she set it back down, her tongue flicked across her lips catching every drop of the drink.
Nate tried to break his obsession with kissing her and gently blew over the rim, before taking a small sip. He hated to admit it, but it was perfect: rich, creamy, and sweet. It warmed a trail all the way to his stomach.
Lori slurped loudly from the cup, then set it down and signed to her father. It’s very good. Tastes like candy!
“It is.” Nate said. “Do you have something to say to Hailey?”
Lori hesitantly turned back. Thank you.
Nate bit his lip. He’d hoped Lori would choose to speak. “She says thank you. And I do too. This was very thoughtful.”
She shrugged, but spoke to Lori. “Nightmares stink.” Her gaze flickered to him. “I’m sorry. I wish I knew sign language.”
He pulled Lori’s hair over her shoulder as she sipped from the cup again. “She can hear. You just get shy around new people, huh?”
Lori nodded.
Hailey turned her attention back to her cup. After taking another sip, she ran a finger around the rim, wiping away a stray drip before it could fall to the table. “Your dad tells me you like to ride horses.”
“Y-y-yes.” She said. “My aunt…takes me.”
“Anna works out at Sunnydale,” Nate explained. When Hailey looked as though she couldn’t place the stable, he continued. “Betty Crawford started a hippotherapy program out at her place.”
“I don’t know what that is.”
“Therapeutic horse riding.”
Hailey turned back to Lori. “Mrs. Crawford taught me how to ride when I was in 4-H.”
Lori’s eyes lit up and she leaned over the table, slightly closer to Hailey. “You…ride…horses?”
Hailey scrunched up her face and shook her head. “Not anymore. But when I was younger—a little older than you—I did.”
“I don’t remember that,” Nate said.
“I quit riding when I was about twelve I think. I had a growth spurt and got too big to ride the pony we had. I remember Mom and Dad talking about finding me a more suitable mount, but my interest was waning.”