by Jenna Kernan
She stared back.
“Boss?”
Eduardo’s voice jolted him. “Miss Lily, this here is my ranch hand, Mr. Nuñez. Eduardo, this is Miss Lily.”
Eduardo tilted his hat to the girl and winked, which earned him her first response—a small fleeting smile.
“Figures,” Garrett mumbled. He pushed the board up to Eduardo and then climbed the ladder to help secure it with nail and hammer. They continued working, and after a while Molly called and Lily went inside the house. Every now and then Garrett would check the window and find her nose pressed up against the glass, watching him.
“Muy linda,” Eduardo commented. “But she doesn’t talk much.”
“She doesn’t know me.” But she will. He owed it to Josh to be there for his daughter whether Kathleen wanted him to be or not.
Chapter Four
“Folks asked after you at church service today,” Molly said as she emerged from the pantry carrying an earthenware bowl filled with potatoes, carrots and onions. “It would do Lily good to meet some children her age. You used to run around the churchyard—all pigtails and petticoats a-flying. You certainly had your share of fun and mischief.”
Kathleen smiled, remembering. “It’s been a long time since then.”
Molly set the bowl on the kitchen table. “She’ll be going to school in less than a year. It might make the transition easier on her.”
Kathleen started in peeling and quartering the vegetables. Maybe it was time. “All right. I’ll take her to the Christmas Eve service. It will be a good beginning for her.”
Molly smiled, pleased, and then cocked her head. “What’s that I hear?”
A rhythmic whoosh and thud came from outside. Kathleen glimpsed through the gingham curtains and stopped short.
Garrett. Again.
“Well, I declare!” Molly said, plopping her fists on her ample hips. “Can’t turn around without him bein’ here anymore.” She stepped outside.
Kathleen untied her apron and slipped it over the back of a chair. She had a thing or two to say to him, too. She might not have done as she’d said—she hadn’t dropped in at the ranch—but he hadn’t kept his word, either—not exactly.
He swung the ax high overhead and struck the small log, splitting it cleanly down the middle. In the short time he’d been there, he’d managed to chop several hearth-size logs into smaller pieces of firewood.
“I know I needed wood,” Molly called out. “But I don’t recall asking you to do that, Garrett Sheridan.”
“Your wood bin is low.”
“That it is. But I won’t have you breaking the Sabbath for me.” Her eyes twinkled as she spoke. “You’re still in your finest Sunday clothes, too.”
“Cold weather on the way. I might not have another opportunity.” He took a moment to shed his coat and roll up his shirtsleeves, revealing muscular forearms. Most likely his entire body was like that—having been raised on a ranch. Kathleen’s cheeks warmed. She’d like to blame her fanciful thoughts on the fact he looked a bit like Josh, but she knew that wasn’t it. She’d always felt something special for Garrett—even before that kiss.
A brisk knock sounded on the front door, releasing Kathleen from her reverie. She left Molly to deal with Garrett and headed through the parlor to the door.
“I’m here to see my granddaughter.”
Her jaw dropped open as Barbara Sheridan swept into the room and deposited her cloak over the back of a chair. Never the frilly type, she was dressed in a white button-down blouse covered with a forest-green silk bodice. A blue plaid scarf belted the waist of her dark green skirt. Her dark upswept hair had streaks of gray through it now, but that made her look even more forbidding than years ago. Suddenly, however, her regal stance softened.
Kathleen followed her line of vision. Lily had walked into the room.
“What a surprise, Barbara,” Molly said, entering behind Lily. “Especially since I just spoke with you at the service.”
“I realize I haven’t been invited...and that this is a bit awkward...” Discomfort crossed her face. It was the first time Kathleen had ever seen the woman unsure of herself.
“...but I couldn’t leave town without meeting my granddaughter. It’s time, don’t you think?” She tugged off her gloves. Waited.
Lily hid deeper in the folds of Kathleen’s skirt.
Barbara’s chin went up a notch and her gaze slid to Kathleen. “You look well. How nice to see you after all this time.”
The words, stiff and formal, did little to ease the tension in the room. Outside, Garrett continued chopping wood. Sheridans. She squeezed her daughter’s shoulder. “Lily? This is your grandmother. You have two. My mother, Grandmother McCrory, lives in the house by the sea. This is your father’s mother, Grandmother Sheridan.”
Slowly, Lily stepped from the folds of her skirt.
Barbara gasped. “Oh...my...” and again, “Oh.” She looked up at Kathleen and then back at Lily. “She has the Sheridan eyes. There’s no doubt about it.”
Kathleen tensed. Was she searching Lily to make sure of her birthright?
“I’m sorry. That came out all wrong. I’m just so...surprised. And, and...stunned. She is the image of Josh when he was young. Will she come to me?”
At the request, Lily clung tighter to Kathleen’s skirt.
Barbara’s shoulders slumped. “I’m not here to frighten you. I’ve waited a long time to finally get to meet you, Lily.”
The sight made Kathleen uncomfortable enough to rethink her reaction. Perhaps Barbara felt as awkward with this as she did. Kathleen crouched down and brushed the hair away from Lily’s face. “I see Josh every time I look at her,” she admitted softly. “Lily? Honey? Please...greet your grandmother as we practiced.”
Lily gripped the sides of her pinafore, put one foot behind the other, and dipped into a quick, wobbly curtsy. “Hello, Grandmother Sheridan.”
The older woman smiled, and with it her angular face lost its forbidding expression. “Hello, Lily. I...I have something for you. A present.” She held out the package.
Lily’s eyes widened, and after a quick look at Kathleen to make sure it was all right, took the package and tore off the paper. It was a carving—no bigger than Lily’s hand—in red-toned manzanita. A horse...no...a foal lying down.
“This is a likeness of Dixie. She was born at our ranch this past spring.”
Of course it would have something to do with the ranch. Barbara Sheridan thought, slept and breathed the ranch that had been in her family for three generations. One more reason she’d never been able to accept that her son had chosen a “townie” like Kathleen. Kathleen knew nothing about ranching.
Lily accepted the gift, a perplexed look on her face.
“Perhaps a doll would have been more appropriate. I’ve had so little experience with girls.” Barbara pressed her thin lips together. “I have something for you, too.” She withdrew a small book from her satchel.
The volume of sonnets. Kathleen’s stomach clenched. A myriad of conflicting emotions swept through her. Along with Lily, this book represented her time with Josh. She took the ribbon-tied book and held it gingerly.
“I found it among Josh’s things last year,” Barbara said. “I hadn’t been able to look through them in all that time. Losing him...” Her voice trailed off.
Kathleen held herself rigid, frozen to the spot. Inside, her chest ached. Of course Barbara Sheridan had grieved—just as Kathleen had. But she had also hated the idea that Josh married her. That Josh had had to marry her. Kathleen stiffened her spine. “Thank you, Mrs. Sheridan.”
“Please, call me...”
Kathleen braced herself. There was no way she’d call this woman mother.
“Barbara. I hope you’ll come by the ranch. Brent and I...” Her voi
ce trailed off for a moment. Then she took a big breath and squared her shoulders. “You’re welcome there anytime.”
Welcome was not the feeling she’d gotten.
“We have room for you...even to stay if you would like?”
“Thank you for the offer. It’s...kind of you.” She stumbled over the words. “But I’m comfortable here. This arrangement suits Aunt Molly and Lily as much as it suits me.”
Barbara Sheridan pressed her lips together. “Then I’ll be going.”
The woman left as quickly as she’d barged in. Momentarily stunned with the turbulence the woman had stirred up in her wake, Kathleen barely noticed Lily tugging on her hand. “Read this, Mama. Is it a good story?”
She smoothed her fingers over the embossed title. Josh’s book.
“It’s not a story. It’s a book of poems.”
He’d given it to her at the beginning of their courtship. At the time, it had turned her head to think he thought of her the way those poems of love professed. She’d been naive, trusting and so very foolish. Love wasn’t like that. Could never be as pure and selfless as the flowery words made it out to be. How could she have believed such ridiculous words? She took a deep breath. At least she was smarter now...wiser. She flipped through the pages to the beginning.
For Kathleen McCrory
With affection
JGS
Josh Grover Sheridan... She’d learned soon enough after the wedding that he thought the sonnets were silly. None of the words of love in that book had meant a thing to him. She’d wanted so badly to believe in them that her own romantic foolishness had clouded the truth. The knowledge was bitter to face. Lily was the only good thing to come from all that foolishness.
“I have a better idea,” she answered her daughter, and closed the book. “How about I read from Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland?”
Her daughter’s quick smile was the only response she needed. The thwack of blade against wood as Garrett wielded his ax outside reminded her she wanted a word with him. “Run and get the book. I need to speak with Mr. Sheridan for just a moment.”
Kathleen peered through the window. Garrett buried the ax in a log and walked over to the water pump. Giving the handle several strong jerks, a steady stream of liquid surged into the bucket. He cupped his hands and, filling them, splashed water on his face and the back of his neck. She shivered at the thought of the ice-cold water this time of year.
“Here,” Molly said, slapping a towel in her hand. “Give him that and ask him to dinner. It’s only proper after all the work he’s done around here. I’ve got to get more carrots from the root cellar.” She trundled off to do just that.
First Barbara Sheridan and now Garrett. Kathleen was beginning to wonder if Molly was maneuvering all of them. She threw on her shawl, her motions tight with frustration, and opened the door.
He stood ready to knock. His look of surprise mirrored hers, no doubt. Quickly he lowered his fist. He’d unbuttoned the top of his collar. Water glistened in the tanned V of his neck, drawing her gaze. A whisper of interest skittered through her and centered in her abdomen. Ignoring it, she met his eyes. “Do you always help Molly with these things?”
“No.” He took the towel from her and wiped his neck and face.
He’d shaved that morning—likely for church. The usual day’s growth of beard that darkened his jaw and made him look older, tougher than his twenty-eight years was gone, and smooth skin begged her touch. The urge took her by surprise. Perturbed by her wayward thoughts, she looped her fingers behind her back.
“Then does this have something to do with getting on my good side?”
He raised a brow. “Your good side?”
Was he being sarcastic, or did he not even realize his helping around the place put a debt on her she didn’t want? “What is it about you Sheridans? First you, then your mother.”
“Ma’s here?” He stepped close and glanced over her shoulder into the kitchen. His expression froze when his gaze landed on the book of sonnets on the table. Something flashed across his face. Did he recognize it? Had Josh mentioned it to him? Could he have laughed about her naïveté right along with Josh? Brothers did that sort of thing. Yet she couldn’t picture Garrett being that cynical. She picked it up and pressed it against her breast. Despite her feelings regarding the small volume, it was tangible evidence that Josh had, at one time, desired her. And for that, the book was special.
“Your mother just left.”
“I figured she might stop by. She’s been pacing around the ranch ever since she learned you were in town.” He stepped back, looked her up and down. “You okay?”
Startled, she glanced up at him. She hadn’t expected his concern. “Yes. Yes, I am. She was...cordial.”
“She only wants to be a part of Lily’s life. A part of yours.”
“She wasn’t interested before.” Long ago the bitterness inside had hardened into a tight knot. “She didn’t even acknowledge Lily’s birth. Not that I expected presents or a visit.”
“But you did expect something.”
She nodded, for a moment too upset to speak. “A note, perhaps? I sent an announcement. I thought...”
“She never received it.”
Through her anger, his words registered. “What?”
“She never received it,” Garrett repeated, slowly, deliberately.
Kathleen hadn’t considered that. “I gave it to Franklin, my brother-in-law. He posted it.”
“Maybe he did, but it never arrived.” Garrett shrugged into his leather jacket. “When we didn’t hear any word, I rode out to check on you and Lily.”
“You came by?”
“Ma figured you had the baby in June. I stopped by your father’s new store. He wasn’t pleased to see me. Said you’d moved on from that part of your life. It was your sister, working that day, who told me where to find you. You had Lily on a blanket in the shade next to the house. You were weeding in the side garden.”
Her world spun with his revelation. “Why didn’t you say anything?”
“What was there to say? You were where you wanted to be. You hadn’t contacted my side of the family. I figured you wanted it that way.”
He didn’t look at her while he spoke, and that was how she knew she had hurt him—or if not Garrett, then his mother. She felt sick inside. Here she’d been holding a grudge against the Sheridans for years.
“I take it your father didn’t tell you.”
“No.” Father had always been envious of the Sheridans and their ranch. Her connection, and Lily’s, to the family had been one of the reasons for his move to the coast. It was one way he could hold power over them. “I didn’t know.”
He shrugged lightly. “Doesn’t matter now.”
But it did. It explained so much more than he realized. She stepped toward him and placed her hand on his bare forearm. He had to know it wasn’t her doing. “I’m so sorry, Garrett. It shouldn’t have happened like that.”
The furrow between his brows smoothed and his gaze locked on hers. For a moment something fragile and sweet pulsed between them. Warmth radiated from his skin. She let go. Blushed.
“You ask him yet, Kathleen?” Molly entered the room.
“Ask me what?”
It struck her then that she’d been reluctant to do Molly’s bidding. She’d had enough of the Sheridans that week to last her a good long while. But something had changed. Now she could imagine Garrett sitting across the table from her, and it didn’t seem nearly so uncomfortable. “She wants to know if you would like to have Sunday dinner with us.”
He contemplated the question, his sea-green eyes searching her own. Again she noticed the brief splaying of lines in the corners. Five years had done that to him. What did her face reveal about her?
“Well,” Molly said.
“What’s it going to be?”
He looked up, breaking the spell, and tipped his hat to her aunt. “Thanks just the same, ma’am. Like you said before, I’ve got things to attend to at the ranch.”
Kathleen had thought for sure he’d stay. It’d be his chance to visit with Lily. The confusion must have shown on her face.
“You’re not ready.”
“Of course we’re ready. Molly keeps a boardinghouse. She’s always ready for extra guests at her table.” Still perplexed, she followed him to his horse.
He shrugged into his coat. “That’s not what I mean, Kathleen.”
“Then what?”
He mounted and looked down at her. “It’s you I want the invitation from. Not Molly. I’ll wait.”
Chapter Five
Garrett paced outside the bakery. Seemed Kathleen stayed longer every night. The holidays had everybody in a frenzied state. Even the animals could sense the difference. Finally the light from the kerosene lantern dimmed and then went out. When she stepped onto the boardwalk, she didn’t seem surprised to see him. Maybe she was beginning to accept his presence in her life. He hoped so...even if all it meant was he could help out with Lily. Josh would have wanted that. Garrett didn’t for one minute think she’d let him into her life if it wasn’t for her daughter. That door had closed long ago and now there were too many secrets that stood in the way.
Her eyes drooped with fatigue. He’d offer to carry the cake she held, but with his lack of grace he’d likely ruin it. Instead he took her scarf, which was looped over her forearm, and slipped it over her head and around her neck in the way he’d seen her place it. When his fingers skimmed her throat and jaw for a second, a tingling sensation raced up his arm. He swallowed, trying to ignore it. Instead he concentrated on the fact that her acceptance of his touch was a testament to her exhaustion—and that was all.