In the gaps between the children’s legs, she could see someone sitting or lying on the ground. Just a brief glimpse of a child’s foot covered only by a white ankle sock.
Outside the edge of the circle lay a sneaker, all by itself.
A grass-stained sneaker. Decorated with purple stars.
Chapter Seventeen
If she had ever had any doubts about Sam’s genuine concern for his daughter, Kayla certainly didn’t hold a single one of them now. As soon as he learned Becky had fallen, he had come running, and he hadn’t left her side since.
She sported a scalp wound from her tumble, a minor scrape that bled superficially, nothing more serious than that. She sat in the kitchen for a while with an ice pack pressed against the side of her head, but she soon wanted to give that up in her eagerness to go back outside again.
“Play?” she signed to Kayla. “Me, play?”
The kickball game had ended, and the kids Becky’s age had turned their attention to the plastic horseshoes set up alongside the barn.
At Kayla’s nod, Becky ran from the room, banging the kitchen door behind her.
Kayla turned to Sam, who looked more upset than the child herself. “It’s okay,” she reassured him. “Just a minor accident.”
“I realize that.” Looking puzzled, he shook his head. “But I don’t get it. You didn’t want her up on a horse—which is something she could learn to handle without having to say a word.” He gestured widely toward the door. “Yet it’s okay to have her out there on that field with a bunch of kids running around her, in a situation she can’t control.”
“That’s different.”
“How?”
She frowned at him. “All kids learn to play with others, Sam. Sometimes the games are physical, and they’re rough. And sometimes the kids get knocked down or hurt in the process. You must know that—you were a kid once yourself. It’s natural.”
“Yeah? Well, out here, it’s natural to spend half your life on the back of a horse.” He followed in Becky’s wake, letting the screen door slam closed even more loudly than she had done.
The finality of the sound underscored what Sam had left unsaid. She had no doubt it also reinforced her thoughts.
When it came to Becky, the two of them would never find a middle ground.
STANDING IN THE AFTERNOON shadows on the east side of the barn, Sam swung his ax against the rotted tree stump, again and again. He’d put off getting rid of this stump for a long while, but somehow, today seemed like the right time to do the job. Hot and tiring work, but not as hot as he felt inside.
Almost a week had passed since the get-together with the folks from town. He had gone back to working his ranch but had stuck close to the house, often bringing Becky to the barn with him while he’d taken care of chores there.
He kept thinking back to that afternoon of the barbecue, though. The day had about come to an end, as it was. Just the second round of desserts, the gathering up of dishes and kids, and the goodbyes. Becky had to spend part of that time with an ice pack resting on the scrape on her head. Still, she didn’t seem bothered by it.
And that wasn’t what made him hot under the collar now.
He took another whack at the stump and left the ax buried deep. Like the feelings he’d been trying to hide. Guilt and anger and a whole lot more.
Luckily, Becky’s fall had been exactly what Kayla had said, nothing more than an accident. The problem was, he should have been watching his daughter himself, instead of trying to stay away from Kayla. Sitting on the bench beside her that afternoon had made him see things more clearly. Had made him glad to run off to throw a few horseshoes.
Why had he been avoiding her, and not keeping an eye on his child? Because of the way Kayla took care of Becky. Because of her insistence on teaching him to sign. Because of their near kiss on the couch. And because of the kiss they had shared. Put all that together, and you had the truth right there.
Yeah, sitting next to her that afternoon had given him a heads-up. Had made him realize he’d fallen for the woman who wanted to take his child away.
Kayla was right. He really was crazy.
He yanked his bandanna from his jeans pocket and dragged it across his brow. If only he could erase the thoughts inside his head just as easily as he wiped away the sweat outside.
As he lowered the cloth from his face, he saw Kayla standing by the corner of the barn. She hadn’t been there a minute ago. But she sure was there now, standing with her hands tucked into the pockets of her denim shorts.
He got rid of the bandanna. Grabbed the handle of the ax and started to work it out of the wood. Anything to keep from looking at her.
“Sam.”
So she wasn’t going away. He shrugged. It was as good a time as any to let her know the decision he’d made. He gave the stump another ferocious wallop. Finally, he met her eyes. “Your way isn’t going to work, Kayla. No matter how much you want it to.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’ve learned a lot besides those few signs you’ve shown me. Being with Becky has taught me she needs to be with people who can communicate with her, who can take care of her full-time. In her language.”
“That,” she said forcefully, “is what I’ve told you all along. It’s exactly why I want her home in Chicago with me.”
“Not if I have something to say about it. Besides, that still wouldn’t be enough.” He shook his head. “Face it, Kayla. She needs more than I can give her. More than even you can provide. She needs a dozen of you in her life, every day.”
The idea had been nagging at him all these weeks now, and seeing Becky lying on that field the day of the barbecue had only brought it home to him. “She ought to be surrounded by friends who can talk with her and play with her in a way they can all understand. So that no one, including Becky, will get hurt like she did that day.”
“It was only an accident, Sam.”
“Yes, I know that. It was also the spur I needed to get me moving.”
He could see her back straighten, her shoulders stiffen. “Moving toward what?”
“Toward doing what I need to for Becky.” He yanked the ax free. “You don’t have to worry about her, about her classes, or about her having an interpreter. I’m going to get her everything she needs.”
Even in the shadows, he saw her face pale. But she fought back.
“You’re getting ahead of things, aren’t you? After all, Judge Baylor—”
“Saw exactly what happened that afternoon. Don’t even think twice about what the judge’s verdict will be. I’m not. And I’ve made my decision.” He tossed the ax onto the pile of wood in the wheelbarrow. “I’m sending Becky to a school where she’ll stay with other deaf kids.”
“A residential school? You mean, you would send her to live away from you?”
He nodded shortly. It was the hardest decision he’d ever made. “Look, in these weeks, I’ve gotten close to Becky. And she’s come to trust me. All the more reason for me to do the right thing by her. For once in her life.”
He started down the length of the barn, knowing he would have to go past her. Deliberately, he kept his gaze on the loaded wheelbarrow. He didn’t want to look at her. Didn’t want to see the expression on her face. As he came near, she held up her hand. He wasn’t sure what he would do if she tried to touch him. Fight like hell not to take her in his arms, probably. He stopped beside her but stared across the yard.
“Sam.”
He tried to tune her out. How she felt shouldn’t matter to him. Becky was his daughter, and only he had the right to decide what was best for her. Over at the house, he could see her sitting on the top porch step.
“Look at her,” he said, his voice raspy, his throat tight.
Kayla turned slowly away from him and faced the yard.
Becky sat playing with the stuffed lamb he’d bought for her. With her free hand, she sketched words in the air.
“She needs people around her who can talk to h
er that way,” he said urgently to Kayla. “Real people. Friends. Not just dolls and stuffed animals.” He hardened his heart and his voice and demanded, “How can you say you care about her but not be willing to give her that?”
Now he couldn’t help looking at Kayla, couldn’t help seeing her blank, wide-eyed expression. She looked shell-shocked.
Before she could respond, he walked away, clamping his jaw shut against a whole list of other things he wanted to tell her. Why bother to share any of that? She wouldn’t be around long enough to make it worth his while.
Besides, the look on her face just now had told him she wouldn’t accept any of his ideas.
LATER THAT NIGHT, KAYLA paced the floor of her bedroom, her cell phone clutched in her hand. Her thumbs sped across the keypad as she tapped out a message almost faster than she could think, making up for her lack of reaction earlier. Too little, much too late.
Sam’s announcement had hit her like a physical blow. His news had stunned her so completely, she couldn’t summon words to respond to him. Couldn’t make herself move quickly enough to stop him before he walked away.
Couldn’t find the courage, for a few long, heartbreaking moments, even to turn and look at her niece.
How could she have let things come to this? How could she have failed Becky this way?
Her thumb stabbed at the send button.
When Lianne responded almost in the space of a heartbeat, Kayla could have cried with relief.
Can’t Matt do something? Lianne texted.
Kayla groaned. I called him. He’s not answering his phones, cell or home. I’ll bet Kerry’s gone into labor. I didn’t even leave a message. But I’m sure if he’d found out anything, he would have been in touch already. She choked back a panicked sob. It’s too late. He hasn’t turned up anything we can use to fight with. And I’m not doing any better at this end.
The only things she did know—about the fire and Sam’s wild past—couldn’t help her.
She had to get custody of Becky. And she would.
Still, there was the fear. The chance. The slim possibility she didn’t want to think about, that the judge would rule against her. And if she waited until he had made his decision, only to find her fears had come true, it would be too late for her to press Sam for a better solution.
Too late to do anything at all.
Lianne, what if I DON’T get custody?
She gripped the phone more tightly and felt thankful for the silent communication. If she’d had to say those words aloud, everyone in Flagman’s Folly would have heard her.
That won’t happen, Lianne shot back.
It could. And then he’ll send Becky off to school. She’ll be all alone. And scared. You know she will. You know that more than anyone.
Kayla, I hate to say this but…
Lianne’s message trailed off, as if she was choosing her next words carefully.
She froze. Now what? Had Ronnie turned up? Was there even more bad news? Before she could tap out her question, her phone vibrated. Lianne again.
I think having me go away to school was harder on you than on me.
What are you saying?
I had friends at school. I was happy there.
You wanted to come home to us!
A pause, while Kayla held her breath. And then a long message from Lianne.
Yes, I wanted to come home to you all. But I have to be honest—I wanted to finish up my last few years of school at home, too. Being mainstreamed for high school wouldn’t have been right for a lot of my friends, but it was the right thing for me.
Kayla tapped furiously at her keys. That’s what I feel for Becky. It’s all about what’s right for her. And it’s not right for her father to send her away to school.
Then, Lianne said simply, you need to convince Sam not to do that.
WITH ONLY THE FEW SCATTERED hours of sleep she’d managed to get, Kayla felt grateful when Sam stayed quiet all through breakfast the next morning. She did need to talk to him, but first, she had to get her sleep-deprived brain to cooperate with her.
After they’d finished eating, Sam suddenly announced he was spending the day with Jack and his cowboys out in the high pastures.
Wherever they might be.
He was across the kitchen and out the door to the back porch before she could blink. Through the window over the sink, she saw him striding rapidly toward his truck.
She swallowed her surprise and tried to gather her thoughts before he had time to drive away.
“I’ll be right back,” she said to Sharleen and Becky.
By the time she reached the porch, he had already opened the driver’s door.
“Sam, wait,” she called. She hurried across the yard. “I wanted to talk to you about what you said yesterday. About sending Becky to school. If you do get custody of her, I hope you won’t go through with that. Not right away.”
He frowned. “What good is delaying it going to do? She needs to go to school. They said she needs to be keeping up with the signs she knows, and learning more.”
“That’s true,” she acknowledged, unable to deny it. He’d done his homework, all right. “But Becky’s been with you for such a short time. Sam—” She swallowed, her mouth so dry it felt as though she’d just sliced her throat with a knife. She didn’t want to force her words past the pain. She didn’t want to say them at all. But she had to. If she didn’t get custody, she had to make sure Sam did what was right for her niece. “Becky needs stability. She needs to be with her daddy.”
He looked at her for a long time, his eyes almost liquid silver in the early-morning sun. “She needs to be with people she can communicate with,” he said emphatically. “The school is a great place for her. She’ll be able to learn in her own language and have plenty of kids to play with.” He looked away, his jaw set firmly.
At the sound of the screen door slapping against the jamb, they both turned their gazes toward the house. Becky stood on the porch, several dolls and stuffed animals cradled in her arms.
As they watched, she came down the steps and went over near the barn to the play area she had claimed for her own.
“What Becky needs,” Sam said finally, his voice hoarse, “is that school. You ought to want that for her, too.”
She turned to him. “I do want it. I want everything for her, and more. And the school would be a wonderful place for her. I agree with you on that, too. But there will be time for the school later, if you still feel you want to send her away.”
Impulsively, she put her hand on his arm. He jerked at her touch, his muscles tightening beneath her palm. She dropped her hand and stepped back. She wanted to convince him of her sincerity, not drive him away.
Already, he had shifted closer to the driver’s seat.
As if keeping herself physically near would help close the emotional distance between them, she gripped the inside handle of the open door.
“Sam, please,” she said, finally driven to begging. That didn’t matter. “She’s so young, and her life has been nothing but a series of upsets since she was born. Nothing has been stable for her. Ever.”
She had to admit the truth. To tell Sam everything, so she could make him understand.
“My parents and sister and I love Becky. We take care of her whenever she’s with us. But as often as that is, it isn’t the same for her as having a permanent home. We can’t always be there when she needs us. When Ronnie takes her away.” Again, that knife seemed to slice her throat. Her voice grew as hoarse as Sam’s. “Becky needs to know that she can count on the people around her to be there for her, always. She needs to feel that her life is secure. But if you get custody and send her away, Becky won’t even have that.”
Sam looked off into the distance, where the horizon was broken by a series of tree-covered hills.
When he finally turned back to look at her, his eyes seemed nearly bottomless, darkened by an emotion she couldn’t read. He leaned toward her, held out one hand as if planning to touch he
r, then finally rested it on the door handle, his fingers brushing hers. She could tell he hadn’t noticed the contact.
He sighed. “You know I can’t be here for her every minute, Kayla. No one can. That’s an impossible thing to ask.” He climbed into the truck and tugged at the door.
Feeling the gap between them widen, she dropped her hand. Physically, they were inches away from each other. Emotionally, they had taken stances wider apart than the walls of one of the arroyos that left deep cracks in Sam’s land.
“I’m doing what I have to do.” After starting the engine, he pulled the door closed.
As he shifted into gear, Kayla backed a step, then another. He swung the truck in an arc and pulled out of the yard.
By the barn, Becky watched the truck disappear down the road. Then she looked over at Kayla and raised her brows. She gestured, touching all her fingertips together and dragging her hand through the air. “Go away?” Kayla nodded.
Becky moved that hand to her temple and brushed her fingers downward. “Why?” She wrinkled her forehead, puzzled.
No wonder, when Sam had been spending so much time with her lately. Becky wasn’t used to having him leave her behind.
Kayla sighed. She signed “Daddy,” then tapped her right fist on the back of her left one. “Work.”
But it wasn’t work, Kayla knew. Not completely.
He’d left so abruptly to get away from her. To keep from having to listen to what she had to say. She looked down the road at the billowing dust kicked up by his truck in his haste to put space between them.
She clenched her fists, and her temper flared.
For a man who worried so much about his daughter being able to communicate, he wasn’t so hot at conversation himself.
Abruptly, she relaxed her fingers. She couldn’t hide from herself any longer. Time to think about what had really gotten her so uptight. What had kept her awake those last few hours before dawn had started to break.
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