by June Faver
Beau’s chest grew tight. “I can’t imagine having a child and not being able to be with her, but Dixie is so hostile, I don’t know how we can work that out. I mean, she hates me.”
“Well, Son…” Big Jim hesitated. “I’m pretty sure you have some rights. If it’s okay with you, I’ll give Breckenridge Ryan a call.”
Beau shook his head. “No, Dad. I’m hoping we can work past this. She’s just operating on some bad information. I don’t know where she got the idea her mother talked to you.”
“That Mamie Moore always had a burr under her saddle. I seem to recall your mama saying she was real difficult to work with. She seemed to think that because she was from the city, she was way better than the local women. Couldn’t be bothered to do any church work or even socialize with others.”
“The only times I ever saw Mrs. Moore were when I picked Dixie up at her house. Mr. Moore was always glad to see me, but I got the idea that Dixie’s mother disapproved of me for some reason.”
Big Jim let out a hearty bellow. “Well, she was right. You did knock up her daughter.”
“Yeah, there’s that.” Beau shrugged. “But even when we were kids, she didn’t seem to want me to play with Dixie. I guess she never liked me.”
“Don’t worry about it. I’ll make sure you get a chance to be a father to that little girl.”
Beau held up both hands. “Settle down, Dad. I don’t want to run roughshod over Dixie. I’m hoping we can work things out, and…and I have my daughter to think of.”
Big Jim made a scoffing noise deep in his throat. “I do believe you’re still sweet on little Miss Dixie.”
* * *
Dixie wouldn’t cry.
She didn’t want to upset Ava. So she plastered on a big grin and stifled the anger choking the breath out of her. How dare he call me a liar? After all the misery Beau and his stuffed-shirt father had caused her and her mother, how could he insult her as well? Dixie was boiling inside.
“Mommy?” Ava gazed up at here with concern. “Are you okay?”
“Sure I am, honey. I was just trying to figure out what to fix for our dinner.”
“Macaroni,” Ava crowed.
“Let’s see what we’ve got. Want to help me?” At Ava’s eager nod, Dixie gathered her in a hug and carried her to the old-fashioned kitchen.
She settled Ava at the table and rummaged through the pantry. Yes, there’s a box of macaroni and cheese. What else?
She pushed things around, locating a can of peas and another can of fruit cocktail. What a sad excuse for a meal. “Okay, tomorrow we have to go into town and shop for food.”
Ava clapped her hands together.
“We’ll go early before—before it gets crowded.” With Garretts.
Dixie prepared the simple meal, and afterward she and Ava curled up on the comfortable overstuffed sofa in the den. After all the stress, she could feel the tension slowly drain from her body. Ava nestled against her, happily settling in for an evening of television. They watched Modern Family, but after the first ten minutes, Ava’s eyes grew heavy, and her head dropped against Dixie’s shoulder.
How nice that her daughter could feel so comfortable even though Dixie was a basket case. She huffed out a sigh. Maybe it was because Ava felt secure with her mother even though the surroundings were new for her. She buried her face in her daughter’s hair, inhaling the sweet fragrance and planting a kiss at the same time.
Dixie gazed around the room. Time seemed to have stood still in this house. Her father had not changed a thing. The house was in need of a thorough cleaning and had a sort of musty odor. Maybe she would clean everything and open all the windows. She supposed her dad spent more time out on the ranch with his horses and cattle or at the feed store in town. Obviously he hadn’t paid much attention to the old family home. Or maybe it had just missed a woman’s touch.
Slowly she came to the realization that this house now belonged to her…or it would at the end of the year, along with everything else in her father’s estate. She felt the immediate weight of owning all that property, like a heavy mantle settling around her shoulders. She took several deep breaths. Not a problem. In twelve months, she would have this place spruced up and on the market.
All she had to do was hang in here for the next twelve months, and she could sell off all the property…and return to Dallas.
Her life in Dallas was so simple. She shared a condominium with her daughter and her mother. She had an online store that brought her an adequate income and gave her a creative outlet. She got to spend time with Ava, and then there was Scott, her best friend who loved her like a sister. He was always there for her, ready to accompany her anywhere. He was the perfect date. He was quite handsome and was built like a Mack truck, but…he was in love with Roger.
She was a little irritated with Scott for urging her to return to Langston to claim her inheritance…Ava’s inheritance too. She knew he was right. There was too much at stake, and most of all, she couldn’t allow that bastard Big Jim Garrett to profit from her father’s death, even if it was going to be a miserable year. Even if her father had turned his back on her when he learned she was pregnant…even then, she needed to preserve his estate for her daughter. That was something she had to do, for Ava—for herself.
Mostly, she was furious with Beau. Her anger was based in the pain he had inflicted when he first denied fathering a child with her. And that pain had festered into a smoldering rage.
* * *
Early the next morning, Dixie logged into her online business and took care of the new orders, processing credit and debit cards and forwarding orders to the manufacturers. This was the ritual she used to begin most days.
Dixie checked the balance in her business account and gave a little hum of satisfaction. At least some things rolled along nice and steady no matter what else was going on in her life.
She closed her laptop, pausing for a moment with her hands clasped on its smooth surface.
The image of her father’s smiling face flashed into her brain, the smiling, kind man he used to be…before he decided he had no use for a pregnant daughter or for the wife who sided with her.
Her eyes misted up, but she blinked away any traitorous tears that might attempt to ruin this day. What was done was done. The father she had adored had not supported her. She had to let it go.
Dixie swallowed hard, recalling that her father had been murdered. Some lowlife thief had killed him over the day’s receipts. And now she would never have an opportunity to face him, to ask him why he had treated her so unkindly.
“Mommy,” Ava called. “I’m done.”
Dixie plastered on a smile. “That’s my good girl.” She slipped her laptop into a carrying case and put it away. Lots of sensitive information there.
She cleared away Ava’s breakfast dishes and gave her a quick washup. “You ready to go to town?”
Ava bobbed her head, grinning in response. She had no idea what this town had to offer, but she was eager to take it on.
Dixie secured Ava in her car seat and set out for Langston. Ava was singing to the radio. Dixie, on the other hand, was tight-jawed. She dreaded going in to Langston. She dreaded the possibility of seeing any of the Garretts. For that matter, she dreaded seeing anyone she had known previously. There would be questions, questions she did not care to answer.
Not going to let the bastards get me down.
She had to get into some kind of regular routine. Shopping for food would be a normal part of her life, so she needed to toughen up and be able to survive here in Langston…just for a year.
Turning in at the parking lot in front of the relatively small grocery store, she found a parking place and turned off the motor. “Here we are, honey.”
She pried Ava out of her safety seat and headed inside. Just as she heaved her daughter into the grocery cart, her cell phone
rang. She answered before checking the caller ID.
“Miss Moore? It’s Breckenridge Ryan.”
Her stomach did a tumble and roll. Another person she wanted to avoid. “Um, yes?”
“Could you come to my office today? We need to discuss your father’s business obligations.”
“Does it have to be today?”
Silence. She could imagine his fierce frown.
“You have employees who need to be paid.” His tone was terse. “And we need to get you on the signature card at the bank.”
“I see.” She considered her options. “Look, I’m at the grocery store. I can be there in about thirty minutes.” She said goodbye and disconnected.
Ava stared at her with wide eyes. What was she thinking?
Dixie made a quick circle of the store and found a small cooler, which she filled with milk and other cold or frozen items. She congratulated herself on taking care of her business so quickly as she queued up at the checkout stand.
“Why, who is this pretty little thing?”
Dixie whirled around. An elderly woman stood behind her in line, her cart empty save for two six-packs of Boost and a package of adult diapers. The woman’s face crinkled into a grin. “Aren’t you the Moore girl? And this little one is your spitting image.”
Nodding mechanically, Dixie kept a grip on the cart and her debit card.
“Shame about your dad. Vern was such a good man. Never missed a Sunday at church.”
Dixie swallowed hard, recalling that it was her father who took her to church every week while her mother stayed in bed. Did that make him a good man? If so, how could he turn his back on her when she needed him most?
“I hope to see you in church this Sunday. I think this little one will be in my daughter’s Sunday school class. Is she four or five?”
“Five,” Dixie croaked out. “She’s going on six.” She began placing grocery items on the conveyor belt.
The old woman reached out a hand to stroke Ava’s hair. “Lovely hair, and those eyes. You don’t see eyes like that every day.”
“No…no, you don’t.” She banished the image from her brain of another with those eyes.
Dixie placed her cold items back in the cooler and stowed the groceries in the back of the SUV and Ava in her car seat. With no pleasure, she headed for Breckenridge T. Ryan’s law office.
Misty Garrett, Breck’s secretary, greeted her with a smile. “Hello, Ms. Moore. It’s so good to see you again.”
Dixie stiffened. “Um—it’s good to see you as well.”
Misty’s gaze was fastened on Ava, confusion registering on her face.
“There you are,” Breck bellowed from inside his office. The door stood open, and he motioned for her to enter. “Sit right down.”
Dixie lifted Ava in her arms and carried her into the office, closing the door behind her. “I have groceries in the car. What do you want?” She remained standing, aware of her open hostility, but considering the attorney’s contempt at the reading of the will, she didn’t care what he thought of her.
He stared at Ava. “Didn’t know you had a daughter.”
“Well, now you know.” Her voice was terse. She adjusted Ava on her hip.
“Now I know.” He opened a folder on his desk. “You need to pay the men who are working at the feed store.”
“Okay, how do I do that?”
A muscle in Breck’s jaw twitched. “First, you need to sign these checks.” He fanned out two checks and placed a pen onto the desk beside them. Dixie released her pent-up breath and placed Ava in one of the chairs across from Breck before seating herself in the other. She reached for the pen.
The payees’ names were Peter Miller and Joshua Miller. “Same last name?”
“Cousins,” Breck bit out. “Pete has been employed by your dad for many years, but when the work in the warehouse got to be too much for him, Vern hired Josh part time to do the heavy lifting.”
Dixie signed her name to both checks and pushed them toward Breck.
“Now, you need to take this card to the bank across the square. Take your ID as well.”
“What is this?”
“A signature card. I’ve contacted the bank to make arrangements for you to be able to sign on the business account as well as Vern’s private accounts.”
Dixie’s shoulders sagged. “Oh.” This step weighed heavily on her. It felt so permanent. “Do I have to?”
Breck made a scornful sound. “Of course. The checks are worthless without a valid signature. Be responsible for once.”
“For once?” Dixie jumped to her feet, leaning across the desk. “What do you know about my life?”
Breck gazed at her, steely-eyed. “I know you and your mother abandoned Vern Moore and never looked back. He was devastated.”
She felt as though he had punched her in the gut. “No! No, that’s not what happened. My…my father threw me out…for…for—” She glanced at Ava, sitting wide-eyed in the chair.
Breck drew in a breath and let it out. “I see.” He shook his head. “This doesn’t agree with the story your father told me.”
“You don’t know. You weren’t there,” she shot back.
Breck gazed at her impassively. “And you weren’t here.”
* * *
Dixie gathered her daughter and stomped out of the office, startling Misty as she closed the door so hard the glass panel rattled. Her hands were shaking by the time she got to the bank. She had to sit in the car for a few minutes, gripping the wheel. How did this lawyer have the nerve to accuse her of abandoning her father? It was the other way around.
Now she was wondering what kind of story her father had told people when his wife and daughter left. Had he concocted some sort of fable to cover his own actions?
“Mommy?” Ava’s voice from the backseat jerked her out of her reverie.
“Sorry, honey. Mommy was just thinking.” She removed Ava from her car seat and entered the bank. They were shown to the office of one of the bankers, where she signed the card and presented her identification.
“Miss Moore, we were so sorry to learn of your father’s death. He was a pillar of the community.” The banker presented a pitying expression.
“Thank you,” she said.
“We hope you will continue to carry on in your father’s footsteps.” The banker leaned toward her, a hopeful expression on his face.
“It appears my daughter and I will be residents for a year. After that, I don’t know.”
This was obviously not the response he was looking for. He gazed at her dolefully, pursing his lips and tenting his fingers on his desk.
She stood and reached for Ava’s hand, but the little girl grinned and dashed out the office door. “Ava, stop!” Dixie hurried after her.
She stopped short, almost stumbling when she saw the two tall men who had just entered the bank lobby. Both men wearing Stetsons and Wranglers. Both men broad-shouldered. Both men the bane of her existence.
Straightening her spine, she regarded both Beau and Big Jim Garrett. Her heart leaped into her throat, cutting off her ability to take in air.
Grinning, Big Jim dropped to one knee and held out his arms as Ava ran straight at him. He lifted her, standing as he raised her high above his head. “Whoa! Who is this little runaway filly?” He appeared to be delighted to be holding Ava.
Dixie cleared her throat. “That is my daughter, Ava. Put her down.”
Big Jim tickled Ava on her tummy. “Aw, we’re just getting acquainted here.”
Beau, for his part, looked stricken. He reached out to stroke her hair.
Big Jim passed Ava to Beau, whose face was a smorgasbord of emotion. His brow furrowed, but he was grinning.
Dixie realized he was close to tears and felt a stab of sympathy but quickly squelched it. No way she was going to fee
l sorry for Beau Garrett. Pressing her lips together, she strode across the polished granite floor. “Put my daughter down.”
“Aw, Dixie. Can’t we just get acquainted with each other?”
“Not now. We need to leave.”
Beau gave Ava a kiss on the cheek and set her on her feet. “Dixie, you need to accept that I’m her father. I want to be her father.”
“You had your chance, but you turned your back on me.” She took Ava’s hand. “Now, I’m turning my back on you.” She left, aware that every eye in the bank followed her as she led her daughter out the door.
* * *
Beau swallowed what felt like a roll of razor wire at the back of his throat. He tasted unshed tears. He hadn’t known how quickly he would grow to love the little girl with the big blue eyes. He hadn’t known how it would hurt to have her ripped out of his arms.
“Tough break, Son.” Big Jim clapped him on the shoulder. “That is one mighty sweet little girl.”
Beau couldn’t find the words to describe how he felt about this child, this little girl who stared at him with eyes the same color as his…the same shape as his…
“It’s okay, Son. We’ll work out something.” He turned and strode to the office of the bank president.
Beau leaned against the granite-topped table with slots hosting forms for deposits, withdrawals, and various other transactions. The polished stone felt cool and smooth.
He tried to sort out his feelings. Years ago, Dixie had ripped the heart right out of his chest when she took off without looking back. Now, he knew she’d left because she was pregnant, but why hadn’t she had the decency to tell him? He was in love with her. They were young, but they could have made it work. He would have married her—if only he had known.
But why was Dixie spouting all that anger? She acted as though he had done something wrong. It was as though she had suffered directly because of his actions. As though he had purposefully inflicted some intense pain upon her. She was angry and bitter.
“I’m done here. Let’s go.” Big Jim appeared by his side.
Beau huffed out a sigh and followed Big Jim out of the bank. He climbed into his father’s truck and closed the door much harder than necessary.