by Jennie Marts
Yeah. Changed our last name to the first name of the person you were supposedly trying to forget. How could her mother forget about the man she left when her daughter’s very name was a constant reminder?
Liz sat on the edge of the bed in the guest room, looking like a lost little girl. “I’m confused too, Charlie. What if I made an error by leaving and hiding us all these years? What if Ryan is right, that it was all a big mistake and we could have figured it out? What if I would have just been brave enough to stay? Could we have had a better life here?”
“Oh, Mom. Don’t do that to yourself. We had a good life.” She sighed and plunked down on the bed next to Liz. “And there’s no use second-guessing yourself now. What’s done is done. We can’t go back. We can only go forward.”
“When did you get to be the smart one?”
“I always have been. You’re just finally noticing.” She smiled at her mom and passed her the afghan from the bottom of the bed. “Why don’t you lay down, and I’ll come check on you in a bit.”
…
Charlie stopped at the bottom of the stairs, surveying the room before her. Her father, Buckshot, and Cash were gone, and the table was cleared of the birthday dinner dishes. Sophie and Zack had their backs to her, side-by-side at the sink, as deep in conversation as Zack’s hands were in the sudsy water filling the sink.
She leaned against the doorjamb of the stairwell, watching the two as they laughed and chatted easily with each other, not ready to interrupt with the drama of her family.
A lump formed in her throat. She wasn’t sure if she was emotional over the deep fondness that she had for these two people or if she was perhaps jealous of the obvious love they had for each other and the close father-daughter relationship that she’d missed out on.
She was still stunned that her father had just shown up out of the blue like he had. And the cynical side of her couldn’t help but wonder why. After all these years, what had brought Ryan home when he hadn’t made it home to his own mother’s funeral? Maybe he just found out about his mother’s passing, or maybe he heard about an enormous amount of money being offered for land that he stood to inherit.
What was going to happen now with Tucked Away? Did she have any rights when it came to the financial standings of the farm? The lawyer’s letter had told her that Gigi left the farm to her, but no mention about her father or what his claim to the farm could be.
“You okay?” Zack’s voice broke her from her reverie of thoughts. He stood by the dining room table, drying his hands on a green-and-white checked dishtowel. Sophie stood at his side, a look of concern on her face.
“What? Yeah, sure. Of course, I’m okay.” She stepped into the room, an obvious signal to Sophie, who crossed the floor and flung her arms around Charlie’s middle. “Where is everybody?”
The skeptical look on his face told her Zack wasn’t fooled by her offhand assurances. “Buckshot and Cash took Ryan out to the bunkhouse to get him settled. We thought it best that he stay out there rather than in the house with you all.”
“He’s staying?”
“He says he is.” He shrugged and tossed the dishtowel on the table. “But he’s said that before.”
“How do you know? Have you met my father?” She extracted herself from the teenager’s arms and sunk into the sofa, pulling one of the throw pillows against her chest. Sophie squeezed in next to her and laid a gentle hand on her shoulder. It seemed the girl just needed to be touching her.
Zack took the chair across from her. She wondered if he was intentionally giving her space. He stretched his legs out, crossing them on the table in front of him. “It’s been a long time since I’ve seen him. Cash and I helped out on the farm when we were in high school, and I remember your dad being around, showing us how to work with the horses and take care of the ranch. He’s a pretty skilled horseman. It seems like he left around the time I went to college. I’m pretty sure he went back to the rodeo circuit.”
“And he never came back?”
“Oh, sure. He came back now and again. We’d see him around the farm, but he never stayed long. I think some people just have the nomadic spirit.”
What? Does he think I have the nomadic spirit? Could he be worried that I’m going to leave? “Don’t look at me. I’m the least nomadic person I know. Remember, I’m a writer. I barely leave my apartment.”
Zack shrugged, and she wondered if Ryan’s sudden appearance wasn’t having an effect on all of them. She turned to Sophie and patted her leg. “Well, this has been quite a birthday.”
The girl gave one of her easy smiles. “I told you, I’m okay. I’m fourteen and I have my own horse. My day is awesome.”
She pulled the newly fourteen-year-old into a hug. “You are awesome.”
Zack stood. “I’d better take this awesome girl on home. Come on, Sophie. Let’s let Charlie get some sleep.”
The long day caught up to her, and she suddenly felt every drop of fatigue in her bones. She lay back on the sofa and let Zack lean down to give her a quick goodnight kiss.
“Thanks for coming with us today,” he said softly into her ear. “It meant a lot to Sophie. And to me.”
His breath on her neck sent delicious shivers down her spine. She wished she could let the rest of the world fade away and pull Zack down onto the sofa beside her. If she could cuddle against him and feel his big arms around her, she might be able to think clearly about the events of the day. To try to make sense of her father showing up and the lies that her mother had been telling all her life. “It meant a lot to me, as well. Thank you for including me.”
“Of course.” He touched her cheek, and the look in his eyes told her that he was thinking the same thing as she. “Call me if you want to talk. I’ll be up for a while, if you need me.”
That’s part of the problem. I don’t want to need you, she thought, knowing that she wouldn’t call him tonight, even if she wanted to.
She waved a hand at Sophie. “See you later. Happy Birthday, Soph.”
The teenager waved back, one hand already on the front door. “Thanks, Charlie. And I love my present. We’ll have so much fun with it. All of it.”
Charlie may not have had a mall, but she had the internet. She’d researched Taste of Home magazine and got Sophie her own subscription delivered to her house. She had also found a jewelry-making kit online, chock-full of beads and colored baubles. The perfect accompaniment for an expert Bedazzler. “I can’t wait.”
Zack hesitated a minute, standing above her, his leg pressed against hers. She didn’t know if he had something more to say or if, like her, he just wanted to have that physical moment for a few seconds more. “You sure you’re okay?”
“I’m fine. Go home with your daughter.” She shoved against his knee.
“Call if you need me.” He touched her shoulder once more then crossed the room to Sophie.
She watched them step through the door, then they were gone. Pain tugged at her heart. Zack was the example of the parent that she’d never had. He’d worried more about how she was tonight than her own parents had. How odd to say “parents”. She’d never used the word as a plural before. It had always just been her mom or her parent.
Now she had two. Parents. And one was upstairs, probably sound asleep, tucked in and snoring, thanks to the ever-present supply of sleep aids Liz had in her bathroom bag. She most likely hadn’t given a thought to how Charlie was reacting to seeing her father for the first time, so consumed with her own drama of seeing the love of her life and questioning the decisions she had made over the past thirty years.
And what about Ryan? Was he over in the bunkhouse laughing and sharing a beer with Buckshot and Cash, sequestered away for her sake or his? Or was he already in bed, lying awake, wondering about the daughter he’d just met, yet didn’t have a chance to really talk to?
Her eyes fluttered, heavy with exhaustion. Pulling the blanket from the back of the sofa, she covered herself as she burrowed into the cushions, curling up a
s the small child she felt like. She would have time to think about these things tomorrow, to face the demons of her past. But, for now, she would sleep.
…
The bright Montana sun shone down on the front porch the next morning as Charlie worked on her second cup of coffee. The black and white dog lay asleep at her feet, the canine’s soft muffled snoring the only sound to break the still morning air.
She sat in one of Gigi’s ancient rockers, her foot moving back and forth into a patch of sunlight with each rock of the chair. How like her life right now, moving from the shadows into the sunshine of happiness, only to be yanked back into the darkness.
How could she choose to trust Zack, a man she had only known a few weeks, when every other man in her life had let her down? Maybe she had to stop comparing every man to Stuart and to her father.
In truth, she had actually known Zack longer than she’d known Ryan Charles Tucker. She gazed across the wide expanse of farmyard, and the object of her musings appeared around the corner of the barn and ambled toward her.
She studied him as he approached, his walk easy and unencumbered. This morning, he wore a red short-sleeve button down with jeans. His cowboy boots were dusty, the brown leather faded and worn. The slight swagger in his step led her to believe that he was comfortable in boots, and they were most likely his daily footwear.
The boots added an extra inch to his already considerable height, and she guessed him to be around six-foot-three. His blond hair caught the sunlight, the brightness camouflaging the shots of gray that she’d noticed the night before. For his age, he was still quite good-looking, reminding her a little of a younger Robert Redford.
He sat on the top step of the porch, leaning his back against the banister, and nodded at her cup. “Morning. How’s the coffee?”
Really? The first conversation of her life that she has with her father and he opened with “How’s the coffee?” Okay. It had to be a little awkward for him as well. Maybe she should cut him some slack and stick with the small talk to start. “It’s all right. Want me to get you a cup?”
“Nah. I’ve had plenty. Although I don’t know if you would call the swill that Buckshot makes coffee. That stuff is so thick, it’ll put hair on your chest. He may have brewed up an old boot in that last pot this morning.”
She laughed, despite her best efforts to stay neutral to this man. “Well, I’ve got a pot going if you change your mind.”
They sat in silence in a few minutes, each sizing the other up. Ryan pulled a red and white pouch of tobacco from his pocket. Noting the look of disgust on her face, he must have thought better of it and crammed the pouch back into his pocket. “So, I reckon you’re probably pretty mad at me, huh?”
She reached down to stroke the dog’s fur, taking a moment to think through her answer. Joy rolled over, freeing up more space to rub. “I’m not sure. I don’t even know you.”
He laughed. “Well, give it time. I’m sure once you get to know me better, I’ll do something to piss you off.”
She smiled, trying not to be won over by his charm. His easy manner was at times both humble and arrogant. He had to know he was a good-looking guy and had probably used those looks to garner good graces over the years. But he also seemed to be aware of his not-so-charming side. The one that had probably broken more hearts than just her mother’s and the one that had let his baby girl walk out of his life and didn’t do anything about it. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
He found a loose chip of paint on the porch and scraped at it with his fingernail. “I am sorry, you know. Sorry that I never found you.”
She swallowed at the lump in her throat. Her voice came out almost a whisper as she asked, “Did you try?”
“Yeah, I did.” He flicked the loose paint chip into the driveway before looking up at her. “But probably not as hard as I could have. Your mom broke my heart. I’m not ashamed to admit it. But I was an idiot. And I am ashamed that I didn’t try harder to find you.”
“Why didn’t you?”
“I can’t say for sure. I did. For a long time. And my mom did. Gigi spent years looking for you. I just got tired of the dead ends and false hopes.” He shook his head. “It was hard. I guess I simply got too tired, and after a while, it was easier to just accept we weren’t gonna find you and move on. So, I guess that makes me just a lazy bastard.”
She didn’t know how to respond. He was being honest with her, and she couldn’t ask for more than that. “I guess you’re not totally to blame. It sounds like my mom didn’t make it very easy for you to find us.”
“Your mom is one smart lady. Changing your names like that. I don’t know if I’m more flattered that she used my name or pissed that I didn’t think of it. I guess I take a little comfort in knowing that she loved me enough to give you my name, both of them, and to use my name as hers all these years. Made it so she wouldn’t forget me, at least.”
“I wonder if she thought of you every time she signed her name,” she said, more to herself than to Ryan.
He chuckled. “It would serve her right if she did.”
“I don’t get how she did it. She must have needed money. How did a young, single pregnant woman start over in New York City?”
“That one’s easy. I can answer that for you.” He stood, and then sank into the rocker across from hers. Joy lifted her head and whined, then settled as he reached down to pet her head. “Her dad had just passed away, and she sold the house and land. It wasn’t a lot, but it was enough for her to start over. We were gonna use that money to buy some land near here, start a farm for ourselves.”
How would her life have been different if she’d grown up on a farm in Montana? With two parents and near a grandmother who loved her? Her mom had taken that chance away from her. “My mom took all the money for us.”
“It was her money. And she deserved it, growing up with that man. I don’t know how much she’s told you, but your mom had a hard life.”
“She hasn’t told me anything. Until a few days ago, I thought she grew up in New York. I’m still in shock that she has this whole other life.”
“I don’t blame her. It wasn’t really a life that bears repeating.”
“But I’m her daughter. She should have told me.”
“Why? If she had a chance to forget all that terrible history and pretend it never happened. Why would she bring it all up and soil your little girl mind with a bunch of dirty laundry?”
“But I’m not a little girl anymore.” She took a sip of coffee, determined to keep the tremble out of her voice. “And she could have told me about you. At least given me a chance to find you or meet you.”
“Yeah, she could have. And maybe she would have. I don’t know.”
“Aren’t you mad at her, too? For taking away that chance?”
“No, not really. I got over being mad a long time ago. And I’m terrible at holding a grudge. It only hurts the person that’s hanging on to it.” Ryan stared out at the pasture. “Don’t be too hard on her, Charlie. I really think she probably did her best by you. I know she loved you. And I can’t say that I would have been the best husband or father. I am sorry that you missed out on getting to know your grandmother, though. Gigi would have loved you.”
“I think I would have loved her, as well. I feel at home here.”
“I’m glad. That would have made her really happy.”
She debated telling him about Sophie’s claim of foul play surrounding his mother’s death. Before she could say another word, the front door opened, and her mother stepped out onto the porch.
She observed her father’s face take on a look of tenderness as he watched Liz approach them, sipping from a cup of coffee in her hand. Elizabeth looked beautiful, as always, showered and dressed and all of her makeup on. Her feet were bare, and she wore the same jeans as the night before. Her blond hair was loose, and the snug teal V-neck T-shirt she wore both enhanced her blue eyes and showed off her trim figure that she worked so hard to keep in shape.
She leaned against the porch railing, and Joy got up to sniff at her shiny red toenails. “Good morning. What kind of trouble are the two of you getting into?”
Charlie was amazed at her mother’s light-hearted comment. Last night, she’d been a puddle of tears and despair, barely able to make it into bed by herself. This morning, she seemed her normal self, and Charlie waited for her usual sarcasm and pessimism.
Taking into account what she’d learned of her past last night, maybe her mother was more adaptable than she had ever given her credit for. Maybe she’d earned some of that pessimism, but also knew that she either had to adapt or face the consequences.
“We’re just shooting the breeze. You’re just in time to catch us getting around to discussing the weather.” Ryan raised an eyebrow at Liz. “In fact, you just brought an extra ray of sunshine to the porch.”
Her mother rolled her eyes, dismissing his remark. “I can see you haven’t lost any of your ladies’ man charm.”
“Glad to know you still find me charming.” He winked at Liz. “You do look pretty good, Lizzie. You haven’t aged a bit.”
Was he really flirting with her mother, right in front of her? How could he act like thirty years hadn’t passed and this woman hadn’t taken his daughter away from him? Was he really not still angry?
She tried to figure out why it was pissing her off that he was funny and charming and playing around with her mother, as if the past didn’t happen. Did it bother her more that he wasn’t still carrying around that anger or that he could so easily forgive when she was still angry and hurt inside?
“That’s disappointing, because I’ve worked really hard to change just about everything about myself. Seems I’ve wasted a lot of money on new clothes and beauty treatments.” Liz took another sip of coffee.
“I don’t mean that kind of stuff.” He gestured to her outfit. “It’s not your fancy clothes. You could be wearing a silk dress or a burlap sack. I’m talking about the way you hold your head to the side, and your laugh, and how you still have that little dimple in your cheek when you smile.”