A Child's Gift

by Linda Warren

  There it was. The guilt trip. This time it wasn’t working. “You mean you want me to apologize. Like always.”

  “Well, you know how your mother is. She’s bullheaded and overreacts about everything. Take some time to cool off and come talk to your mom.”

  She shook her head. “No. I’m not doing that this time. I’m serious.”

  “That bakery is your life,” her father reminded her and that made her that much more determined.

  “It shouldn’t be. I deserve a life just like everyone else. You have a son and a daughter who moved away because Mom tried to manipulate their lives. And they rarely come home. We all deserve our own lives. So this time, Mom has to be the one to give. She has to realize she can’t control us all the time. I’ve had enough.”

  “Good heavens. This is going to be like a category five hurricane.” He picked up his baseball cap. “I guess I’ll go home and look for shelter.”

  “Have you ever thought of telling her how you feel?” Anamarie asked.

  “No, I gave up on that a long time ago. Peace is my goal every day and you kids are making it very hard by suddenly growing up.”

  As he walked out the door, the room became quiet. The siblings dealt with their own thoughts and Anamarie thought she should just give up. It was like beating her head against a wall. She was doing nothing but hurting herself. Then again, she could see Jericho’s face and it gave her strength.

  “Jericho, huh?” Patsy mused. “You go for the dark mysterious kind.”

  Peggy slapped her arm. “This is serious. Stop kidding around.”

  Patsy flung a hand toward Anamarie. “That’s why she’s leaving. Because of him, isn’t it?”

  “Do you know what it’s like to hear every day that I can’t run the bakery as well as she can, that I’m slow and incompetent and talk too much to the customers? And if I would just fix myself up and lose some weight, I could attract a decent man? Every day it’s the same thing. Criticism after criticism. How in the world does anyone see that as love?”

  “Anamarie...” Angie got up and sat on the arm of Anamarie’s chair.

  “When Jericho first started coming in, I spoke to him because no one else would. I found that he’s a very nice man. He has the darkest, warmest eyes I’ve ever seen. Just looking into them I feel as if I’m sitting in front of a fire, all warm and cozy. He makes me feel good about myself and over the years we’ve grown closer. We talk a lot. He makes me laugh and he listens to what I have to say. He tells me I’m beautiful and I don’t need to lose any weight. He tells me I’m perfect the way I am. Do you know what it’s like to hear that after all the criticism?”

  Again, there was silence in the room.

  Anamarie cleared her throat. “I’m forty now and maybe I’m yearning for something I will never have, but I deserve a chance at love just like all of you. I know it’s going to be hard and I regret that.”

  Angie rubbed her arm. “I’m sorry the responsibility for the bakery has landed on your shoulders. That’s been very inconsiderate of us. Yes, you deserve a life and we’ll all pitch in and help.”

  “I’d appreciate that, and Margie knows how to make the kolaches. She just needs someone there to help her. Judy is there, but we’d need another person, too. It can work.”

  “What about the family recipe Mom doesn’t want anyone to know?” Peggy asked.

  “Margie knows it. She watches me every morning and that secret has been out for a lot of years. Mom just doesn’t know it.”

  “Mom will insist on going into the bakery if you’re not there,” Bubba said. “Margie has a hard time working with her.”

  “Welcome to my life,” Anamarie quipped.

  “Well, that’s settled.” Patsy raised a hand. “Who’s in favor of Margie baking the kolaches and hiring someone to help her?”

  Everyone raised a hand.

  “But we need someone there today to help,” Peggy said.

  “You guys work it out.” Anamarie got to her feet. “I have things to do.” She told them about Dusty and how she’d agreed to help.

  “Have you told Jericho?” Patsy pressed.

  A pain pierced her chest. “No. It’s not something we’ve talked about.”

  “You’re scared,” Peggy said. “But if he’s the man you say he is, it shouldn’t be a problem.”

  But it had always been a problem. The Wiznowski secret her mother wanted no one to know. But Anamarie carried it like a badge on her chest and every day it made her feel less of a woman. Less of a person. But no more. If she wanted a life with Jericho, she had to be honest and forthright and strong enough to handle his reaction.

  After this morning, though, she had to wonder if he even wanted to see her.

  * * *

  RICO DROVE ACROSS the cattle guard to Rebel Ranch. It was one of the biggest ranches in Texas with miles and miles of ranchland. To the left was the big two-story log house John Rebel had built for his wife, Kate. About a hundred yards behind the house was a smaller log house which they called the homeplace. It had been the first Rebel home. Paxton and his wife, Remi, lived there now with their daughter, Annie. Not far from the house was an old white clapboard hosue that belonged to Grandpa Rebel. Grandpa didn’t stay there much. He had a room at Elias’s and slept there most of the time.

  About half a mile to the right, through a coastal pasture filled with paint horses, was Quincy’s house where he lived with his wife, Jenny, and their two daughters. Their third child was due in two months and this time it was a boy. A lot of babies had been born on the ranch recently. Jude’s wife was expecting their third and it was a girl.

  Jude, Phoenix and Egan had built homes for their families miles down Rebel Road. Falcon lived across the road from Miss Kate’s house. He was the oldest and took over as head of the family when John Rebel had died. He and his mother ran the ranch together. Falcon had taken over completely when Miss Kate had health problems, but she was fine now and nothing was done without her approval.

  The barns, office and cow pens were on the right. When Rico’d first come here, he’d been in awe of the big ranch and didn’t know how he would fit in. But it had been easy as everyone accepted him without question. He’d learned to cowboy, herd and brand cattle, fix fences and bale hay. As much as he tried to stay to himself, the Rebels kept pulling him in, inviting him to family gatherings and on the holidays. After what Miss Kate had done for him, he would never refuse. But a part of him held back, not willing to believe they’d accepted him as one of the family.

  Falcon and Miss Kate’s trucks were at the office. He picked up his cell and called to tell them about Dusty. As he’d expected, they said to take all the time he needed.

  When he stopped at the bunkhouse, Dusty woke up and looked around. Rico thought he might cry but he didn’t. He pointed to the pasture where horses grazed. “Horse.”

  “Yeah. Are you hungry?”

  “No. But I like hot dogs. You got some?”

  “You bet.” Rico got the boy out of the truck and carried him and the duffel bag into the house. Mickey trotted around looking at his new surroundings and occasionally barking at the horses.

  “Toys!” Dusty shouted as they entered the bunkhouse, and ran to the toy box in the corner that Rico kept for Justin and Jordy. He grabbed a truck out of the box and pushed it around on the hardwood floor. Rico watched him for a moment. Dusty was happy for now, but he knew that wouldn’t last long.

  Rico set the duffel bag on the sofa and found some pull-up pants and a T-shirt. “Time for bath.”

  Dusty came without a murmur. The little boy was filthy from his hair to his shoes. Sand was even in his socks. Rico scrubbed his hair and had him clean in no time. After he was dressed, Dusty ran back to the toys. He played for a little while and fell asleep on the floor. Rico picked him up and carried him to the bed. Mickey jumped on the bed and curled up by the boy.
Rico watched them for a moment and then went back to the living room and sank into his chair.

  He held his head in his hands and wondered what he’d gotten himself into. Foster homes were a dirty term to him and he couldn’t let that little boy be put in one after losing his grandmother. Tomorrow CPS could take him away and do exactly that. Rico wouldn’t be able to stop it, but for today he would be there for Dusty.

  He got up and started making the hot dogs. He needed something healthy for the kid, but all he had was chips. And milk. That was healthy. He’d have to go to the grocery store to get food for tonight. As he poured milk into a glass, Dusty cried out. Rico made a dive for the bedroom.

  Dusty sat up crying, holding on to Mickey.

  “Hey, hey, little buddy, what’s wrong?”

  “I want my grandma.”

  Rico gathered him into his arms to comfort him and then carried him into the living room. Sitting in his recliner, Rico patted Dusty’s back. “It’s okay. I’m here.”

  Dusty wiped his face on Rico’s shirt and looked at him. Rico realized for the first time that the boy’s eyes were as dark as his.

  “Where’s my grandma?”

  “She’s in heaven.”

  Dusty twisted his hands, thinking. “With Jesus?”

  “Yes.”

  “What she doing?”

  Rico swallowed, trying to be patient. “She’s looking down at you and hoping you’re not sad. She wants you to be happy.”

  Dusty buried his face against Rico’s chest.

  To get the boy’s mind on something else, Rico said, “Are you hungry?”

  “’Kay.”

  Dusty ate a whole hot dog and drank a glass of milk. Rico also made Mickey a plate. Afterward Rico took Dusty back to the chair, trying to find a way to cheer him up.

  “Were you scared walking around in the dark last night?”

  “No.” Dusty shook his head. “I had Mickey. He’s a monster. He would protect me.”

  Rico looked down at the sleeping dog that looked more like a timid rabbit. But it was what Dusty thought that mattered.

  “What made you leave the house?”

  “Mickey and me were hungry and we walked to the grocery store where Grandma gets food. It’s not far from our house and...I...I had my money in my pocket, but it was closed.” As he talked he twisted his hands and his eyes were dark and serious. “Then we went where we get all the good stuff...and...and...” He seemed to run out of words and rested his head on Rico’s chest once again. “Where’s my grandma?” he mumbled.

  Rico rubbed his back. “I told you, buddy.”

  “No!” Dusty’s eyes grew darker as he looked toward the windows and the sky. “I don’t mean there. I mean where is she now?”

  Rico had no idea what he was talking about and was clueless about what to say. He wanted to console him and help him but his words were useless. Rubbing his back again, he said, “Tell me what you mean.”

  “I have to say goodbye to Grandma.”

  Rico searched for words once again. “Buddy...”

  “When...when...” he twisted his hands in agitation “...when Mr. Kovar died, Grandma said we had to say goodbye. We...we...went to a place and Mr. Kovar was in a big box. Grandma lifted me up so I could say goodbye.” His bottom lip trembled. “I have to say goodbye to Grandma.”

  Rico could do nothing but wrap his arms around the little boy who seemed more mature than a normal four-year-old. He didn’t understand what was happening. He just knew he had to say goodbye like his grandmother had taught him. Rico now wondered if he should take Dusty to the funeral home. Would it help him? Or would it traumatize him?

  He needed a woman’s advice. He could call Miss Kate. She’d be more than willing to help, but another woman’s face was in his mind. Anamarie. She would know what to do and she could help Dusty with his grieving. But did he call her? Or just let her go?

  Dusty slid from his lap. He pulled a tractor from the box and started pushing it around on the floor.

  Rico reached for his phone in his pocket. He had her number. All he had to do was call. But it was a lot more complicated than that. His goal ever since he stepped out of a Huntsville prison was to live a quiet and peaceful life. If he called Anamarie, it would be anything but peaceful. Mrs. Wiznowski would make Anamarie’s life hell. And he would never do that to her. But then, there was Dusty, grieving, needing someone desperately. He shoved the phone back into his pocket just as a knock sounded at the door.

  Dusty’s head jerked up.

  “We’ve got company,” Rico said in as bright of a voice as he could manage. Bright wasn’t in his nature. It was probably Miss Kate or one of the Rebels. It might do Dusty good to see other people. He stepped over toys to get to the door and opened it.

  Anamarie stood there.

  Several strands of her blond hair had come loose from her topknot and curled around her flushed face. Her eyes were hesitant and filled with worry. He had never wanted to hurt her, but that’s exactly what had happened.

  “May I come in?” Her anxiety showed in her voice and he had to be strong.

  “I... I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

  CHAPTER FOUR

  “PLEASE, RICO. We need to talk.”

  At the plea in her voice he opened the door wider.

  “Ana.” When Dusty saw her, he ran to her and pointed to the toys. “Rico got toys.”

  “I see,” she replied. “I didn’t know Rico still played with toys.”

  Beneath his sun-browned skin she noticed a slight flush to his cheeks. She didn’t think it was possible to embarrass him.

  He waved at the toys. “They’re for Egan’s kids. I keep them on date night.”

  “Ah.” He loved kids. It was obvious by the handmade plywood toy box painted red and all the toys piled into it. Now it was going to be even harder to tell him what she needed to.

  She sat on the sofa and Dusty placed a tractor in her lap. “See, you push this button and the tractor roars.” He pushed the button and tractor sounds filled the room. Dusty giggled.

  “I see. That’s cool.” She handed him the toy and said, “Why don’t you play with it while I talk to Rico.”

  “’Kay.”

  As she followed Jericho to the kitchen area she looked around at his home. From the hardwood floors to the leather furniture, stainless steel appliances and granite countertops, everything was pristine and clean. She knew that Paxton and Phoenix used to live here with him and it was definitely a bachelor pad, except for the toy box.

  There were stools pulled up to a bar and a table in the center of the kitchen. She took a chair at the table, as did Rico. She wasn’t sure how to start the conversation, but she’d never had a problem talking to him before.

  “You don’t believe I think the same way as my mother, do you?”

  “No. I know you don’t, but my relationship with you causes problems within your family and I don’t want to cause you that kind of stress. It’s best if we don’t see each other anymore.”

  Her heart sank, but she wasn’t giving up. At her age, shyness and embarrassment shouldn’t affect her so much. She would be as bold and honest as possible. That was the only way they could have a good relationship.

  “Why have you never asked me out on a date?”

  He shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “Because your mother wouldn’t like it and, again, I didn’t want to put you in an awkward situation.”

  She clasped her hands in her lap. “Well, I’m asking you to go with me on a date to a nice restaurant where I can eat food that I don’t have to cook. And we can talk freely and be with each other.”

  “Anamarie—”

  “Why is it so important to you what my mother thinks? She’s judgmental. Angie had a hard time when Erin found out that Hardy was her biological father because my moth
er disapproved strongly. But Angie lived her life the way she wanted and I’m going to do the same. So, do we have a date?”

  He tapped his fingers on the wood table and then looked at her. “Yes.”

  She relaxed a little bit.

  “Your mother’s opinion matters because it affects you.”

  “I can take care of myself, Rico. I just don’t want our relationship to end, and at our ages we should be able to say and do what we want within reason.”

  “I just don’t want you to get hurt.”

  She smiled at him and Rico glanced over at Dusty. “The date will have to wait until they find a home for Dusty.”

  “That’s fine with me. I’m here to help.”

  “What about the bakery?”

  Her eyes locked with his. “I quit. I’ve had enough and I’m not going back.”

  “What?” One dark eyebrow almost disappeared into his hairline. “How are you going to make a living?”

  “I’m very frugal and I’ve saved most of my salary. I can afford to take some time to help you with Dusty until I decide what I’m going to do. That starts with our first date.” Her hands were numb as she stared at the salt and pepper shakers and napkin holder on the table. There were little blue flowers on them and she focused on that. “I want to tell you some things about myself.”

  “You don’t have to tell me anything. I know everything I need to know.”

  She shook her head. “No. I need to tell you.”

  “Anamarie, there’s nothing you could say that would change the way I feel about you.” The warmth of his eyes said she didn’t need to say a thing, but for her own peace of mind she had to.

  “Just listen. Okay?”

  He nodded.

  “In high school I had a relationship with Greg Holmes. We fell in love and he asked me to marry him. He gave me a ring and as soon as we graduated we were going to get married. We made all kinds of plans. He was going to take over his dad’s plumbing company and I was going to take over the bakery. But then I got sick.”

  She took a gulp of air. “When I had my period, I started bleeding and it wouldn’t stop. I was in a lot of pain. It went on for weeks till my mom took me to the doctor. After a lot of tests, they discovered I had endometriosis, and they also found tumors on my ovaries. They did a biopsy and they were malignant and had to come out. The only solution was a partial hysterectomy.” She paused and looked directly at him. “I’ll never be able to have children.”