by Tanya Hanson
With a smart salute at her mother, Pike looked down at Daisy with one of those melting gazes. “Mrs. Densmore, I’m counting on your daughter to be much more than that.”
“Then we’ll count on you for Sunday dinner,” Mom announced. “Daniel will be here, and y’all can catch up. And my grandbaby. And…” Her voice slowed, almost with unshed tears. “Your grandma’s coming back with your father for a nice long visit, Daisy. Pops just called, and I talked to her, too. She says she’s got a lot of time to make up quick and…she’s missed you, honey.”
“Grammy? Missed me? Honest?” Daisy’s knees trembled. Life was getting more and more complete by the second. And Pike’s expression of joy was one she’d remember forever.
“Honest and true, honey. Now let’s get inside. Doc Martin, some coffee?”
“Call me Pike,” he said somehow both shy and authoritative, and Daisy’s heart tugged. “In a bit, sure. Daisy, let’s go check on Freckles.”
“Freckles? What do you need Daisy for there, Pike?” Mom said the name as if she were tasting it.
“I’m finding out I need your daughter for many things, Mrs. Densmore.” Pike sent Daisy a grin that got her heart racing.
“And I need him right back,” Daisy chimed in.
“Well, Pike, you just call me Karen,” her mom said with a grin. “And I can’t imagine any other words that could make me happier than I am right now.”
“Me either,” Daisy sighed.
“Oh, yeah?” Pike’s eyes blazed with a dare. “Not even….”
He bent low to Daisy’s ear and started her quivering with love as he whispered in it.
“Oh, yes, Pike! Oh, yes.” Daisy Densmore tossed her head back and shouted out into the night. “I’m sure she’ll agree.”
“Yes what? Who’s she and who’ll agree?” Karen asked, forehead full of quizzical but pretty wrinkles.
Pike addressed her solemnly. “Mrs. Den…Karen, I’d like permission to court your daughter.”
Karen Densmore whooped in joy. “You got my vote. You can chat with Pops when he’s back. I don’t think he’ll mind a bit.”
“Nope. I’m pretty sure he’ll approve, Mom,” Daisy said, tossing a quick kiss on her mom’s cheek before looking upward. “And my other Father, too.”
And somewhere in the dark, Elway barked.
Epilogue
Hearts Crossing Ranch
The following October
“Hello, gorgeous.”
Pike peek-a-booed with Daisy from behind the tall wedding cake Kelley had created. Displayed in the middle of the big dining room of the Hearts Crossing ranch house, the chocolate masterpiece was surrounded by a circle of fall-colored flowers and leaves. As Pike held out Daisy’s bouquet of orange gladioli, he plopped a teasing kiss atop her head, then nibbled her neck. “This sure beats chasing down split peas.”
She smiled at the memory, taking in his delicious scents of leather and outdoors…even in his Sunday best. “That it does. But you better do better than that.”
On tiptoe, she raised her mouth to his, and the velvet bridesmaid’s gown the color of Pike’s russet eyes rustled beneath his arms as he held her close. While their lips lingered together, she tasted him—and their future.
“Hello yourself, handsome,” she said, tingling, as she pulled away at the sound of footsteps. And she meant it. If they lived to be a hundred, and she hoped they did, Pike would never stop taking her breath away.
“Whoa.” Hooper gave out a low murmur of approval as he entered the room and nodded at her, pale but striking in his Sunday best, a bolo tie, and shined-up dress boots. The crucifix their pa had given all his sons during his last days hung over his collar, too. “You’re sure gorgeous there, Daisy.”
At his use of the same adjective, Daisy’s face warmed with pleasure, the hot embarrassments of last summer long gone. The family had had far more important things to contend with these last months since she joined their ranks that warm June night. What Hoop had suspected was a hernia acting up had proved to be a sudden fast-growing cancer. “No, it’s you, Hoop. You look awesome.”
“Aw, I’m skinny and haven’t ridden in months.”
“You’re getting your strength back. That’s all that matters now. And you’re still a hottie.” Daisy left Pike to give Hoop a heartfelt hug. Surely it had to have been part of God’s plan to have her there by Pike’s side to support him through some dark moments of nearly losing his brother. She and her own brother Daniel had grown so close lately she’d never be able to say good-bye. Praise God, Hoop was in remission now, a full cure expected. She trembled with joy.
“Yeah, right.” Hoop snickered, rubbing his peach-fuzz head, laid bare by chemo.
“I mean it,” Daisy insisted. “That baldy look is very fashionable these days. Guys do it on purpose.”
He shook his head with a bark of laughter, but sobered right up. “Every day’s a gift. And I’m glad I get to be here for this one.”
His little girl Ella clomped in behind him on the hardwood floors in her new black patent leather Mary Janes, and lifted one from the hem of her long white dress. “See my new shoes, Aunty Daisy? I love my shiny shoes.”
Daisy knelt to hug the little girl, overwhelmed by the moniker since they weren’t quite related yet. Slung over Ella’s arm was the empty flower-girl basket, and Daisy realized Hoop held a bunch of yellow roses in his hand.
“I need help getting my petals ready,” Ella complained, “and I can’t find my gramma.”
“She’s helping Aunty Christy get dressed at the chapel,” Daisy told her. “Maybe I can help.”
Hoop handed her the stems. “Yep. Much obliged. My fingers don’t work too good yet.” The moment might have been somber at the reminder of his terrible ordeal, but he grinned. “I’ll take a little peripheral neuropathy any day. Sure beats the alternative.” He touched the top of Ella’s head, wreathed in yellow rosebuds. “You go ahead, honey girl. I’ll meet you at the truck.”
Ella scampered off, and Hoop said in a voice thick with emotion, “I do want to get to heaven someday, but I sure want to see my little girl grow up. Give her away at her wedding.” His voice trembled, and Daisy’s eyes filled with tears.
She and Pike hugged Hooper at the same time. “You and Ella go ahead. I’ll bring her basket to church,” Daisy assured him and Hoop gave a thumb’s up sign and headed out the front door. Her heart thumped with affection. “Aw, maybe the bride has a single friend. Hoop deserves somebody nice.”
“Don’t we all?” Pike said softly, reaching for a stem and pulling off petals. “Soon it’ll be you and me.”
Love almost like a liquid poured over Daisy. “Christmastime.” She stopped pulling apart petals and kissed his cheek. “December twelfth can’t get here soon enough.”
“On the other hand, if you wait until spring, we could be the first couple to get married in Posy’s Grove.”
The mention of Posy’s Grove hurt a bit. The pretty tree-shaded grotto on the shore of Old Joe’s Hole was the final resting place of sweet Elway. However, the place was going to be perfect as a wedding venue after Christy, a landscape architect, completed the final design for the Martin clan’s new destination wedding venture.
“Tempting but no. I don’t want to wait.” She said the words with her whole heart in her voice.
“Me either,” Pike said huskily.
“Besides, your mom has already started making Ella’s flower girl dress. Green and red plaid taffeta. My mom’s got the invitations addressed. Owen’s been measured for his tiny ring bearer tux,” Daisy said with emphasis. Along with Pike, she had to admit her little nephew was the latest love of her life. And she and Mom, Grammy too, were getting along great. Daisy didn’t dare do anything to upset a bridal applecart this time around.
“I’m sure Ella and Owen will be adorable and steal the show.” Pike fiddled with the flower in her hair, his breath warm and tantalizing on her ear. “Flower girls and ring bearers always do. But me, I’m more intere
sted in the bride.”
“Me, the bridegroom.” She nestled into him, careful of his boutonniere.
Her heart couldn’t help a tumble. Daisy Densmore was getting married. To the love of her life. They’d climbed both mountains and molehills to get here, and she thanked God every day. For so many things. Her new sister-in-law for one.
“I have to pinch myself sometimes. Christy actually asking me to be a bridesmaid.”
Pike shrugged as he tossed a handful of petals into the basket. “It’s called forgiveness. And being an adult. You’re both family now and part of each other’s lives, so why not?”
Why not? Daisy had hurt Kenn, true, but they’d talked out their differences and he’d bestowed forgiveness willingly.
“Talking about a being an adult,” Daisy sniffed a teasing little snort. “I remember when you wanted nothing to do with me. Well, because of Kenn.”
“Yep. That lasted about two days.”
Both smiled at the struggles and joys of last summer. Of her holding Pike’s hand, proud and in love, arriving at Tim’s engagement party amid gawks and grins. Of them holding their heads high at the Fourth of July reunion picnic with Tony outrageously among the group. Deep down she suspected he had trouble up his sleeve, but he’d gone on to Reno. And she’d gone on to trusting the Lord.
And of sneaking those kisses during the wagon train trips when Daisy did her scheduled share of chuck duty. Summer over now, Kelley was working twenty-five hour days at Vegeterra, but so far her little restaurant was hanging on.
“Besides, I get those three weeks off school for Christmas,” Daisy reminded him. “I am so looking forward to skiing all day in Vail, and getting cozy all night.” Her body already trembled in anticipation.
Daisy added another blessing to her list of nightly prayers. Her former school had recommended her heartily to a Christian junior high in Rustic Canyon. The drive might be a bit much in bad weather, but every mile was worth it.
Pike laid his warm callused hand on her cheek. Every day was worth it, too. His lips met hers.
And every kiss.
Sanctuary
1
As he dried off his peach-fuzz head, Hooper Martin caught sight of his brothers down below at the corral and clenched his teeth. He should be outside helping them mount up the visitors who wanted a trail ride. The last few months he’d missed out on so much. Hearts Crossing’s city-slicker wagon train rides. Bringing the herd in from summer pasture. The October market. Well, just about every aspect of everyday life including his little girl’s first day of school.
Jaw tight, he leaned on the sill of the window of the workout room that had once been his childhood bedroom. A gander at the mountains and hills wrapping around Hearts Crossing Ranch soothed him, and like a swooping hawk, his favorite psalm flew into his mind. I will lift up mine eyes unto the hills. In spite of everything, he had so much to be thankful for. His Wranglers hung better on his bones than just last week, and his hair had grown out just enough to look cool. He had to grin, but another unhappy thought swamped him. What woman would want him now?
Determined not to be a grump, he wiped off the exercise bike, pulled on his boots, and clomped downstairs to the large dining room and its tantalizing buffet. Ma was changing out late breakfast dishes for barbeque. This way guests could eat lunch and go as they pleased. Sit-down meals were rare at Hearts Crossing.
Delicious aromas started his mouth watering. Something he was getting used to after those weeks of raw throat and tongue. Chemo didn’t differentiate between healthy and malignant when it set out to kill quick-growing cancer cells. Those days of feeling as though he’d swallowed razor blades still had the power to take his breath away. For a second, those memories killed his appetite. He tried to shake them off as Ma looked up from pouring sweet tea into Mason jars.
“Morning, son. Workout go OK?”
He’d finished forty-five minutes on the bike, but flatland only, level four. Not the level ten hills-and-valleys setting he used to be able to tackle. At least the cycle was kind to feet racked with peripheral neuropathy. He blew out a harsh breath, not accustomed to the hills and valleys of his mood since his diagnosis. “Yep.” He bent to smooch her cheek. “Getting better every day. Might just be time to saddle up Alamo. I can get a ride in before I get Ella at kindergarten.”
As she stiffened, he held up a warning hand. No need to let her start nagging that he wasn’t ready to ride yet. “I got to at least try, Ma.”
“All righty. I suppose you must.” She frowned as though he was going against her sound advice. “Thanks for getting that lug of potatoes this morning.”
He shrugged. “No problem. Had to get Ella to school anyway.”
“Well, you have to eat.” His mother stood firm. “Right now you got a choice of breakfast or dinner.”
“Ummmm. Breakfast.” He gave her an enthusiastic grin.
Like he was a helpless child, she dished up two plates, one for each of them and shoved at his shoulder until he sat down. After dumping on a half-cup of salsa, she lifted up a forkful for herself.
“We’ll have a full house tonight,” she said with a change of subject. Some thirty or more folks had settled in at Hearts Crossing for his brother Kenn’s wedding. “Rehearsal dinner tonight’s almost as many guests as the wedding. Did I tell you? The guest bunkhouse is full. The Ricochet Motel in town is sold out, as is the Gingham Grove Bed and Breakfast Inn. Wedding guests all. Mountain Cove hasn’t had this much business in years.” She raised her eyebrows. “Bet they wish all my sons were getting married.”
Heat rising, he ignored her. After all, he’d done it once. Lynn hadn’t wanted to stick around when he was a healthy man. And she’d never been there for Ella. A pain he didn’t like to feel rumbled through him. What would happen to his little girl if the chemo didn’t take?
“Bragg and Scott are moving into the bunkhouse with the hands for a few days,” Ma shoved away worries about the future, “so our west wing is free.”
Sounded so presidential Hoop’s mood lifted, and he burst out laughing. “The Prez and First Lady?” he asked.
At first, her face crumpled. Then she caught his joke. “No. I’ve got a Mr. and Mrs. Cameron in the Belle’s Starry Night Suite. Brian and Malia. Two of Christy’s sorority sisters have the Huckleberry Holliday room.”
“Otherwise known as Pike’s room.” Hoop snorted. Pike had recently set up his own house on twenty acres Pa had left him. With him and Daisy getting ready to marry in December, Ma—and the local innkeepers—must be mighty glad about the next batch of guests and plans. Hooper felt a little twist of envy, but Ma smiled so bright he couldn’t help a warm swoosh of affection. Her recent redecorating project had helped him get through a particularly noxious bout of chemo when she’d made him brainstorm names for rooms with her, even pick paint swatches. He grinned back.
However, Belle’s Starry Night wasn’t exactly a suite. His shoulders shook now. Pa had plumbed a toilet and miniature sink inside a coffin-sized closet for his sister Rachel when she turned thirteen to give her five brothers a break and Rachel her own privacy. No grown man could even shut the door of the fool thing over his knees if he was, well, sitting down.
Ma’s voice turned serious, too serious. “Sorority sisters just stopped by for lunch before their ride. Those bridesmaids’ gowns I made ’em fit like dreams. Awful pretty girls.”
Sensing matchmaking was afoot, Hooper ground his teeth. Even his brothers had yapped about beautiful bridesmaids. But when Ma put her large, warm hand on his arm, his heart melted. She’d been his rock many times, and in spite of her meddling, he knew she meant well. Still…
“Ma, this is Kenn and Christy’s wedding,” he warned. “Not some romance movie.”
“Hooper, you said it yourself, before you got sick. Lynn’s out of the picture. You’re ready to date again.”
Heat scorched his cheeks. He might have mentioned such to his sisters and brothers, but he’d never gossiped about it to his ma. Which
of those turncoats had ratted him out? He wrapped his fingers tight around a cup of coffee. Deadened finger tips could hardly feel the warmth. Maybe someday the numbness would wear off. Maybe not. “That was before.”
“Before what?” For a second, her plump face wrinkled like a dried apple.
He huffed. “Ma, don’t you get it? No girl would want me now.”
“What are you saying?” Her fork stopped in mid-air. “You’re handsome as ever.”
“That’s not what I mean.”
She stared at him. “Aha. I see. You lost one testicle, but the other one is fine. Lance Armstrong and Scott Hamilton, why, they’re healthy and fathers. The doctor says…”
“He doesn’t know for certain,” Hooper hissed, hating the sound. “What if things don’t work right?” His heart panged. Most of the guys on his online support group didn’t seem to have problems, but Hoop wouldn’t know for sure until his wedding night. And that wasn’t the kind of worry a guy confessed to his mother. “I just don’t think I could let a girl I care about take a chance with me.”
Ma nodded, firm. “If she loves you, it won’t matter.”
“Well, it matters to me.” He ground out the words.
“You need to put all this in the Lord’s hands.”
“That’s always your answer, Ma.”
“As it should be.”
Hooper sniffed. Of course it should. He was a man of faith himself, and a real good father, but wouldn’t the Lord rather Ella have a mother in her life? Especially if, well, if she did end up losing her daddy? Because she might. For years yet, he’d require regularly-scheduled CT scans and blood work. So why make marriage impossible?
Which it was, in his mind, after a diagnosis of testicular cancer. What woman would take a chance on things that might not work right? On the possibility of caretaking an invalid down the road? No matter he’d gotten a hopeful prognosis and potential cure. Once the ugly thing comes to live with you, cancer never truly ever leaves your head.
“Ella’s a beautiful little girl, Hooper. Any woman would be proud to be her mother.”