Whatever the case, she was his kryptonite.
Chapter Fourteen
Isaac had been in and out of Allie’s room all night. Each time Rebecca had woken up, she’d noticed him at the door, watching. Jersey had seemed just as vigilant. At eight in the morning, though, Isaac seemed to have gone missing. She hadn’t seen him in several hours. She guessed he’d probably fallen asleep in the waiting room.
“Why don’t you go find him?” Her mother’s simple question took Rebecca by surprise. Alice Barnes had showed up shortly before breakfast was served.
“I’m sorry?”
“Your friend, the one who pulled the all-night security detail outside the room. The nurses told me when I got here. They dragged a chair over for him to use.” Alice smiled. “I guessed he might be the reason you keep looking at the clock and then at the door.”
“No, I’m just wondering when we get to leave.”
“I’m sure you are. And you’re wondering where he’s gone off to. He’s very nice.”
“He’s just a friend.” She stood up, stretching to relieve the kinks in her spine. “I think I will go check on him.”
She kissed Allie on the forehead and left the room. The most obvious waiting room was empty. As was the emergency waiting room. She remembered her father sitting there the previous evening, the worried look on his face. Before they’d gone home, he’d come to Allie’s room for a brief visit.
Rebecca had walked with him as he left. Aware of the tension between them. The past might always be there, pushing them apart. If she allowed it.
She didn’t want the distance. She would forgive him. She could probably even say the words now, but the actual process, letting go of the pain he’d caused, would take longer. But it would do him good to know his granddaughter.
And Allie, because Rebecca kept the most painful details from her daughter, might know a kinder version of Don Barnes, and never know the truly horrible things he’d said in the past.
She passed by a room designated for physical therapy and consultations. The door was open but the lights were off. She heard someone speaking, so she glanced inside. And spotted Isaac. He’d found a mat in a corner and was stretched out, still in his boots, with his cowboy hat tossed on the floor next to him.
The horses. She wondered who had taken them all home the previous evening. Probably Joe and some of the other men—and women—from the ranch.
Isaac thrashed about on the mat, obviously having a nightmare. She approached cautiously and heard him mutter something about the child. The girl. She knelt next to him, lightly touching his arm. Somewhere down the hall a door banged.
Like a bolt, he shot off the floor, knocking her back in the process. His eyes were wild and he didn’t seem to notice her. She pulled back, unhurt but frightened. Not for herself, but for him.
“Isaac, wake up. The little girl is okay. Allie is okay.” She had a feeling Allie wasn’t the child in his dreams. But maybe if he heard her, it would change the dream. It was worth a shot.
“She’s fine because you were there.”
He closed his eyes tight, opened them again. Then he saw her on the floor. He dropped to his knees in front of her. “Did I hurt you?”
His hands touched her face, as if searching for injuries.
“I’m fine. You didn’t hurt me. What are the dreams about?”
He sat back against the wall and drew her to his side.
“Isaac?”
He sighed. “Afghanistan.”
“When you were injured?”
“There was a little girl. We all kind of adopted her. I’m sure she had parents, but she was poor. So many poor people there. She would catch us working and want to try to speak English. We gave her fruit, bought her a doll.”
“And?”
He reached for his hat, pushing it down tight on his head. “She was there the day of the explosion. She took off down the street.”
“Stop.” Rebecca reached for his hand. “You don’t know what happened to her. She might have made it. Maybe she was already past the area when the explosion went off.”
“I don’t know.”
“Maybe she’s somewhere growing up. Maybe she has a boyfriend. Or her parents have moved.”
He grinned and leaned against her just a bit. “Yeah, maybe. I’ll try to keep that thought.”
Rebecca stood, reached for his hand and pulled him to his feet. But the movement brought them close together and that brought back memories of being in his arms. He touched his forehead to hers.
“I don’t want to hurt you, Rebecca. Ever.”
“Trust. Isn’t that what you told me when you put Allie on the back of the horse? I trust you.” She had known this man less than a month, but he needed to know. “I trust you.”
She trusted him with her life. With her heart. But she didn’t trust him to accept it if she told him all that.
“Don’t.” His forehead was still lightly touching hers and his hands moved, one sliding beneath her jaw as he tipped her face, giving him access to her mouth. He kissed her gently, slowly, taking her heart piece by piece.
“No,” he said, as he backed away from her. “Because you’ll give me all of that trust and I can’t promise you anything. I won’t be responsible for hurting you. I won’t put a woman or child through the same painful existence me or my siblings lived through. If you don’t believe me, ask Carson about the night his mother took them and left.”
“I don’t need to ask Carson. Jack has shared his stories with me. I also know that you’re not Jack. You have to trust yourself, Isaac. That might be more important than my trust.”
“Maybe. And maybe I’m a fool.”
She glared at him.
A glimmer of amusement flickered in the depths of his eyes and then was gone. “Okay, we both know I’m a fool. And I want to know that we’re friends. I want to be there when Allie rides in her first horse show. Or breaks every state record in barrel racing.”
“As my friend.”
He shrugged. “As your friend.”
She left him standing there. Because she didn’t want to lose her friend. She also didn’t want to lose her heart. Maybe it was too late for that. She also didn’t want to lose herself. She had never pleaded for a man to give her a chance. She wouldn’t start now.
The difference was, this man was worth taking a chance with. And he didn’t even know it. He didn’t realize there were far greater ways to hurt a woman than by accident as he was having a PTSD-induced nightmare.
A police officer was waiting outside Allie’s room. When she saw him, her heart froze. She hurried forward.
“Allie?” She tried to get past him.
“Miss Rebecca Barnes?” He stopped her. “I need to talk to you.”
“My daughter? Is she okay?”
“What’s going on?” Isaac called out.
She spun to face him as her mom walked out of the room. “What is going on out here?” she asked.
“Miss Barnes, I’m investigating a possible break-in. Do you have a salon on Lakeside Drive in Hope?”
“My daughter is okay?”
He gave her a look that clearly said he thought she’d lost it. “Yes, your daughter is fine. I’m here because the local officer was patrolling this morning and noticed the door open. When the officer went inside, he found that your shop had been burglarized.”
“Greg,” she said. “I can’t believe this. I just opened the business.”
“We’ll go check things out.” Isaac stepped forward, showing that she could trust him. Even if he didn’t trust himself.
“What am I going to do?”
“One thing at a time,” he told her.
The officer cleared his throat. “I’m afraid the damage is extensive. And I’ll need for you to take inventory of what might have been stolen.”
“Of course.” She slid a hand over her eyes, but forced herself, for Allie’s sake, to pull herself together.
“We’ll head that way as soon as possible,” Isaac told the officer. “And thank you for coming over here.”
“No problem. You said the name Greg? Is that someone you suspect might have done this?”
“Yes, Greg Baxter. I filed a report a week ago. He met me at my shop and was physically abusive. He wanted money and threatened me. Last night he approached my daughter—his daughter—at the parade in Hope.”
“Miss Barnes, I would encourage you to get a restraining order until we can catch this man. I’ll see if I can find something in our records so we have a photo of him, and we’ll issue a BOLO so that all officers in the area are looking for him.”
“I appreciate that.”
He told them all goodbye and left.
“What will I do? How can I make a business work if I’ve already lost my inventory and furnishings?”
“Let’s wait until you see the damage. Don’t automatically assume the worst,” Isaac answered.
“You’re right.” Of course he was right. She gathered her composure and stepped inside Allie’s room. “Hey, kiddo, I think they’re going to do a few tests and then we’ll go home.”
Allie remained focused on the television. “Why was the policeman here? Was it about last night?”
“Partially. I’m going to pack up your stuff so when you get back we will be ready to go. Where are your shoes?”
“Nana has them,” Allie said with a big grin. Nana. Of course, every kid wanted one of those. The word meant warm hugs, cookies, someone to teach her to knit and to share secrets with.
Greg could take a lot from them, but he couldn’t take away this relationship between Allie and her nana.
Three hours later Rebecca realized that Greg could take her dreams. As she stood in the center of her salon with the police officer, Jack and Isaac, she realized that all the times in her life that she thought she’d been overwhelmed, she hadn’t been. Not at all.
This was overwhelming. Not only had Greg trashed her shop, he’d stolen from her. He’d stolen merchandise, trust, dreams and her future.
“I’m done.” She walked away from the group, touching the empty clothes rack. He’d stolen the clothing. He’d stolen hair products. He’d taken the jewelry she’d purchased from a local crafter.
“You’re not done.” Isaac spoke as he got closer to her. “You have friends.”
“Yes, but this isn’t something a friend can fix. Christmas is coming up. I just don’t know what we’ll do.” For the second time someone had come in—once through a door left open, and this time a locked door—and had stolen from her.
“I keep thinking, enough. Enough of this pain. Enough feeling like I’m being punished. Just enough.”
“There’s a verse—”
She held up a hand. “Please, not the one about God not giving me more than I can handle. I know. I really do know. I know I can keep moving forward. I know this isn’t the end of the world and I can get another job. I still have Allie. I have what’s important.”
“I was going to say—” he winked as he spoke “—that God promised to give you the desires of your heart. This is your dream, so don’t let a man take it away from you. Tribulations produce perseverance. Don’t give up.”
“Perseverance produces character and character produces hope. Right?”
He kissed her forehead. Her heart broke a little, because she might persevere, but she would miss him in the process.
* * *
Wednesday morning, Isaac woke up early. He moved hay for cattle and bad-mouthed the meteorologist who had said something about a light snow. It was too early in the month for snow. When he came out of the barn, Rebecca’s car was still parked in front of the apartment. If she wasn’t going to be proactive in the perseverance department, he would have to help her.
That’s what friends did for one another.
He found Jack in the family room of the main house. He had his feet up and was reading the Bible. Isaac stood for a moment in the doorway, unnoticed. Jack had gone through a lot, but this man, the one Isaac looked up to, admired, loved, this was a father to be proud of.
“What do you want?” he asked, without looking to see that it was Isaac at the door.
“Sorry. Didn’t want to disturb you.” Isaac entered the sun-soaked room. Not a cloud in the sky. He hoped that meant the forecast was wrong. He could do without the cold.
“You’re not disturbing me. I’m resting. I got up this morning and went out to check on the new mare. I think she’s going to foal soon. It’ll be a Christmas surprise, because that guy we bought her from said he didn’t know she was pregnant. Said he had her in a field with other mares. I don’t think this is a miracle by any means, and I don’t want to imply he’s lying but we’ll probably end up with a mule or something half-Shetland. I’ve never liked those ponies.”
“I know. Where’s Maria?”
“She’s mad at me.” He humphed and went back to reading his Bible.
“You know she loves you, right?”
Jack’s gaze came up. “Don’t be ridiculous. She’s still in love with her husband. Passed away about thirty years ago.”
“She loves you. I’m just saying, it’s worth taking a chance.”
“Is it?” Jack sat up and put his feet down. “That’s quite a statement from you, considering.”
“Considering what?”
“Considering you’ve been moping around here like someone took your favorite kitten.”
“I don’t like cats.”
Jack pointed a shaky finger at him. “But you do like Rebecca Barnes.”
“She’s a good person.”
“Right. So why are you bothering me again?”
Conversations like this never went well for Isaac. Jack had a way of turning things around and winning. Every time. “I came to see if I could borrow your key to Rebecca’s shop.”
“And why would you need to do that?”
“Because I want to surprise her. I know she hasn’t had the heart to go back inside. I thought if I got the place cleaned up, it might be easier on her.”
“That’s mighty nice of you. The key is in my office, in the top drawer of my desk. It’s got a tag on it with the name.”
“Thanks. Dad.”
Jack pushed a hand through his hair. “Now who is being unfair?”
“You are my dad, right?”
“Yeah, I am. I haven’t been the best father to any of you, but I sure love you all.”
“I haven’t said it often enough, how much it means to me that you took me in. And that you came looking for me after...” He pointed to his head.
“What else would I have done? You’re my son.”
“Yeah, I know. I’m just used to calling you Jack.”
“You can call me whatever you want, as long as you know how I feel.”
“Good. And you might want to tell Maria how you feel. If she’s mad at you, maybe it’s because you’ve been blind to what is right in front of you.”
Jack waved him away. “Don’t get pushy. Go do your good deed and work out your own life.”
“Yep.”
Fifteen minutes later Isaac walked through the door of the salon. The tree Rebecca and Allie had decorated had been tossed and the decorations scattered or busted. A week until Christmas. Surely he could get this place looking like something in that amount of time. It needed to be cleaned, a chair or two replaced, and her inventory reordered. If she kept her records in the office, that would be the place to start. No matter what he did inside the building, it wouldn’t matter if she didn’t have inventory.
It didn’t take him long to find what he needed. Shipping information with names of suppliers, phone numbers and even a
packing list with the items. He made a few phone calls, asked for duplicate shipments and paid for expedited shipping.
With that accomplished, he needed a broom, dustpan and trash bags. He found a box for the broken pieces of mirrors, furniture and Christmas decorations, and started to work.
The front door chimed and Mattie walked in. She shook her head as she surveyed the damage.
“Your aunt Lola is right behind me. I saw your truck and hoped I’d find you cleaning this mess up.”
“I thought if I got it started, she wouldn’t feel so overwhelmed.” He grabbed up some ripped towels that had been left in a pile.
“What kind of man does this to the woman who fathered his child?” Mattie pursed her lips. “If you don’t want to be a dad or a husband, fine and dandy, but you can still be a man.”
“I hope you aren’t talking about me?” Isaac picked up another handful of trash and dumped it in the box.
“You know I’m not. I just get so aggravated. I heard some young man at the store bad-mouthing a girl he got pregnant. By golly, he’s having a baby with that girl. He should at least respect her.”
“Calm down, Mattie.” Aunt Lola walked through the door. “You’ll get your blood pressure up again and then what good will you be?”
“I haven’t ever had high blood pressure, Lola.”
“Maybe not, but you have a big old soapbox.”
“Yeah, well, there’s a ton of dirty laundry that needs to be dealt with.”
Isaac had been minding his own business, doing a good deed, and now this. He held a hand up to stop the fussing. “Ladies, are you here to help me or help drive me crazy?”
“Are we making you dizzy?” Aunt Lola looked truly concerned.
“A little,” he told her. “Mattie, if you would like to finish sweeping, I’ll get the paint and deal with the marks he made on the wall.”
“What can I do?” Aunt Lola asked. “I could write her a check.”
That was the main reason she’d made him her power of attorney a year or so ago. Because she didn’t mind writing people checks. And some people didn’t mind taking advantage.
The Rancher's Christmas Match Page 15