by Lois Richer
“You’ll have a daddy one day, Ella,” he promised in a broken whisper.
“That’s what Mama says, too.” She heaved a sigh and unclasped her hands from his neck. “But I dunno if God is gonna ever answer my prayers.” She walked away, shoulders drooping.
“Is that all you have to give that darling child, Drew?” Miss Partridge stood next to him as he rose. She tut-tutted in obvious disappointment. “You owe her a lot more.”
He was glad she spoke in an undertone, but still. “It’s not—”
“Any of my business?” Miss Partridge nodded. “It isn’t. Except that I’ve been praying for you and your little family for so long and it hurts to see you throw away such a wonderful gift because you’re afraid. How can God answer that sweet girl’s prayer when you won’t do your part?”
“I can’t—”
“Never mind.” She shook her head at him mournfully, then added, “But I do thank you for the pies. Giving like this shows you’re a part of our church family.”
Drew stared at Miss Partridge as she left bearing a piece of cheesecake. He was part of this family of believers? It was that easy to belong?
He collected his own lunch and sat with Oliver. When they finished, they began cleanup.
“There are three full pies left in the carrier,” Oliver told him. “Plus about eight pieces left on that table. What’s your plan?”
“Leave them for anyone who wants them.” Drew felt somewhat deflated now. “Unless you...?”
“Uh-uh. I’ve still got half the apple pie you gave me.” Oliver smiled. “This was a good idea, Drew. Everyone loved it.”
“Yeah.” Drew shrugged. “Wish I’d thought of bringing along ice cream.”
“Didn’t need it. Those awesome pies were enough. Good job.”
“Thanks.” Drew wondered when this man had become such a good friend. “You, too, Ollie. Couldn’t have managed without your help.”
“I just hope Mandy doesn’t cuff your ears when she realizes you raided Bonnie’s garden for that rhubarb.” Oliver guffawed at Drew’s scowl. “Let’s get cleanup finished so you can get going. Tell Bonnie and Ben hi from me?”
“Sure will.”
It took them less than fifteen minutes thanks to a well-organized director who had done this many times before.
“Great idea to use paper plates for the pie.” Pastor Joe applauded. “Makes cleanup easier. I think our moms really appreciated this lunch. Good work.”
Drew emerged from the church feeling tired, but in a good way. Mandy and Ella were seated on the grass in a sunlit patch of grass, reading a book.
“Sorry to make you wait,” he apologized.
“No problem, chef.” Mandy’s grin added an appealing glow to her tanned face. “That pie was amazing.”
“Thanks.” He tried to play it down, but she wouldn’t let him.
“Truly, Drew. You went to a lot of trouble. I just have one question—”
“Yes,” he said before she could ask. “Yes, I picked Bonnie’s rhubarb. It needed it.”
Mandy burst out laughing. She rose and tugged Ella upward, shoulders shaking.
“What’s so funny?” he demanded.
“Your guilty face,” she sputtered.
He rolled his eyes and waited until she sobered.
“Actually, I wasn’t going to ask about the rhubarb. I was going to ask about your pie recipe.”
“Oh. It’s Bonnie’s. She taught me to make pies many years ago.” He blinked. “I have the cake I made for her in the car, but maybe I should have brought along some pie, too.”
“Already done.” Mandy pointed to the foil-covered plate sitting nearby.
“Good. Thank you.” He wondered why she was just standing there. “Are you about ready to go?”
“I would be if I could find my car.” Mandy glanced around the almost empty lot. “I thought you parked—?”
“I don’t want to go in Mama’s car,” Ella said in an unusually cranky voice. “It’s too pokey.”
Drew mentally winced at the hurt look that flickered across Mandy’s face.
“The mechanics are going to make sure your mom’s car gets fixed because this time she’s going to leave it as long as necessary. This time she’s going to use Bonnie’s car until hers is working perfectly,” he said firmly. “Right?” He glanced at Mandy, waiting for her nod. “Oliver brought the pies in Bonnie’s vehicle. He left it for us and took yours to drop off at the garage where he picked up his truck. It was in for a tire rotation.”
Mandy shook her head. “Drew, I’m not sure I can afford—”
“That’s why you never left it very long, because of the mechanics fees.” He grimaced. “The Double H is paying, Mandy. You use your vehicle for all kinds of work errands. It’s only fair the ranch pays for some wear and tear. Besides,” he added when it looked like she’d argue, “it won’t do anyone any good if you’re stranded on the road somewhere. It benefits the Double H to keep your car operating.”
“But—”
“Can we go?” Ella interrupted.
“Lead the way, missy.” Drew glanced at Mandy. “What’s wrong with her?” he asked sotto voce.
“What’s wrong is that I don’t got a daddy,” Ella snapped, hands on her hips. “I’ll be the only kid at church on Father’s Day who doesn’t got one.” She stomped her way to Bonnie’s car, flung herself into her seat in the back and buckled her belt, but her face remained uncharacteristically frowning.
Talk about guilting someone.
Drew tried to brush it off as he drove toward the hospital, but it wasn’t easy. This child constantly amazed, confused and astounded him. Her days were mostly always sunny and she spread joy wherever she went. People smiled back at her because they couldn’t help it. Her happiness was contagious, much as Mandy’s had been. Life with Ella would be an unforgettable experience.
This past week Drew had grown to love Ella’s laugh when she beat him at Chutes and Ladders, or raced him on her pony, or sprayed bubbles all over him. Her malleable nature and her constant inquisitiveness forced him to provide answers that satisfied her curious mind. Her effusive affection was growing on him, too. Once or twice he allowed himself the sweet pleasure of holding her, of feeling her velvet lips pressing against his cheek.
Somehow with Ella, Drew experienced freedom to express emotions he’d always feared. She was so much like her mother that he often caught himself glancing at Mandy to see if she remembered doing the same things Ella did.
But Ella wasn’t sunny today. Every time he glanced in his rearview mirror, her tearstained face reflected like a dart that pierced his heart. Twice he caught Mandy watching him with an expression that said something between fess up and admit you’re a failure.
Neither one was an option. But that didn’t stop Drew from pondering what would happen if he told Ella he was her father. The notion barely flicked in his brain before his mind screamed, No!
Ella wanted a permanent daddy. That meant being there whenever she needed him, doing whatever it took to care for and protect her. It meant responsibility, which rendered the very notion of fatherhood impossible for Drew. Besides, Mandy didn’t want him in her world permanently. She’d made that very clear when she’d excluded him by not revealing that she was having a baby. And in the years since.
Drew had done some responsible things. He’d set up a fund for Ella with Mandy as administrator. It would take care of any needs Ella might have now and for her future education. He’d spoken to his lawyers to revise his will so everything would go to Mandy. He would stay as promised to help her keep the ranch going, ensuring she’d still have her job. What more could he do?
Yet none of it seemed enough. All Drew kept hearing was failure.
Oliver’s comments echoed in his head.
You make your home by contributing, by giving and by
sharing with people you care about. Maybe that’s why you never felt comfortable here, because you didn’t put anything of yourself into making the ranch your home.
Maybe if...
“Drew? We exit here.” Mandy’s quiet voice broke through his musings and cut off things that would have been a mistake to consider.
“I know.” He signaled and took the turnoff to the hospital. There was no going back.
Face it, buddy, a voice inside him chided. You burned your bridges with Mandy years ago because you were too scared to keep searching for her, too afraid you’d find her and too terrified she’d ask you to give up your dream.
That was all true.
Just because Drew still hadn’t figured out where he belonged didn’t mean he belonged at Hanging Hearts Ranch, no matter what Miss Partridge kept hinting.
Chapter Ten
“I’d forgotten exactly how grueling Cragg’s Peak is.” Mandy leaned against a spruce tree to rest her wobbly legs. She sipped wearily from her water bottle. “I’m getting old.”
“Those guys are older than us by a decade, yet the climb doesn’t seem to bother them.” Drew grimaced at the three men gathered on a promontory overlooking the picturesque valley, animatedly chattering about how best to share their view with the world. “They’re not even breathing heavy,” he complained. “Yet I’m huffing and puffing like a man three times my age. How do they do it?”
“Don’t ask,” she hissed. When Drew’s eyes widened, she explained, “They’ll tell you clean living and then go into a long list of their power drinks and boosters, what they eat and what their fitness routine is. You’ll feel worse after you hear it,” she assured him.
“Not possible,” Drew said mournfully, sliding down the tree trunk to rest on the pine-needled ground. “I thought yesterday would kill me, but I feel even worse now.”
“I know.” Mandy rubbed her neck. “When I crawled into my sleeping bag at eleven last night and zoned out, they were still catching up with work on their phones. When I woke up at five, they were dressed, shaven and had eaten.”
“They also drank all the coffee,” Drew complained bitterly. “I didn’t even get to breathe in the aroma from an empty pot.”
A rush of sympathy oozed inside her. He did look destroyed. And gut-wrenchingly handsome with his scruffy chin.
“There wasn’t anything to breathe because they don’t drink coffee.” She rolled her eyes at him. “Get over your addiction, Drew,” she teased, loving this easy banter between them. It had been so long. She blinked at a sound and groaned. “Here they come. Look lively, cowboy.” Through sheer brute force, she rose and pasted a smile on her lips. “Had enough of the view, gentlemen?”
“Who could get enough of that?” Rob, the leader, waved a hand to encompass the valley. The others chimed in their agreement. “We thought we might take a dip in that river to refresh ourselves for the next leg. That okay with you?”
“Sure, but it’s frigid,” Mandy warned them. “Fresh from the mountain snow. Drew here used to jump in as soon as the ice was melted. Aren’t you joining these guys today?” she asked him, tongue in cheek.
“Think I’ll pass.” Drew’s expression promised he’d get even later. “I want to check in with Oliver, make sure things are okay with Bailey and my favorite trail riders.”
“I admire a guy who takes his work seriously.” Rob ushered his friends into a grove of trees to change into their swimsuits.
Sheer force of will kept Mandy upright and smiling, humming a merry tune as she busied herself checking her pack until a jubilant shout erupted. Seconds later splashes echoed through the valley as the men dove in. Then she relaxed.
“They’re nuts,” Drew murmured, staring at the group. “I’ve met a lot of odd investment guys, but these three are way beyond odd.”
“Is that why you interrupted me earlier when I was about to tell them what you do?” Mandy asked, then winced as she stepped on her sore foot the wrong way.
“What’s wrong?” Instantly Drew was by her side, looking for injuries.
“Nothing. My ankle is aching, that’s all.” She rubbed the offending member, surprised by his attentiveness.
“Let me take a look at it while they’re swimming.” He waited a moment, then arched his brow. “You know it’s better to assess the problem immediately, Manda Panda.”
“You’re not responsible for me,” she said firmly.
“Ben’s number one tenet—when in the back country, everyone is responsible for everyone else. So?” Drew crossed his arms over his chest and waited. Clearly he was not giving up.
“Oh for goodness’ sake,” she muttered and undid her hiking boot. “It’s nothing.”
“So why the big deal about showing me? I have seen your foot before.” As if aware he’d just alluded to their past, Drew tucked his chin into his chest, knelt in front of her and pulled off her sock. Then he began probing her ankle with his fingertips. “Does that hurt?”
“No,” Mandy said, refusing to wince. “I’m fine.”
“It looks a bit swollen. You should have stuck it in that frigid water. Since you didn’t...” Drew removed the first aid kit from his pack and selected an elastic bandage. “Let me wrap it. If nothing’s wrong, it won’t matter. If it is tender and you’re just being tough, it will help.”
“Anyone ever tell you you’re bossy?” she muttered as he began winding the bandage around her instep, heel and ankle.
“You. About a million times.” He continued winding, then used a safety pin to hold it in place. “They’re getting out of the water now. You might want to put your boot back on.”
“Thanks.” Mandy sounded gruff even to her own ears, but that was because she couldn’t suppress a well of longing for the return of his gentle touch. It had been so long since she’d felt cared for, cherished, protected—loved?
Love was not for her. Mandy pushed out the wayward thoughts and tied her laces. She’d just finished when the men reappeared looking hale and hearty.
“Good swim?” Drew asked from his seat atop a huge boulder.
“Fantastic!” The eldest of the men held up his phone. “But I’d appreciate it if we could take the quickest way back. I’ve got an emergency at work.”
“That’s too bad,” Drew offered. He shot Mandy a sideways glance she couldn’t interpret. “The shortest way back would be straight down, but we’re not going to rappel today. There’s been no appreciable rain for a while and a lot of rocks are loose and falling. We don’t want to get hit on the head.”
“No.” Rob studied him curiously. “But there is a rough trail down and across the pasture, right?”
“Yes, there is, but we won’t be going that way either.” Drew smiled to soften his sharp response. “Bulls,” he explained. “They’re feeding in that area so it’s better we avoid them. Shall we gear up? Don’t worry, we’ll get back in good time and we’ll see some lovely flora and fauna along the way. You’ll have great pictures.”
Bulls? There were no bulls in that pasture. Mandy knew that for certain because she’d ridden out two days ago specifically to check the area they’d be traveling through. When Drew ignored her, grabbed his walking stick and moved to the head of the trail, she had no choice but to bring up the rear.
Which made her wonder what he was up to, because by moving in as leader, Drew was taking responsibility for the rest of the trek, for their guests and for any misadventure that might happen along the way. Drew, the man who avoided responsibility like the plague.
There wasn’t time to debate with him, and anyway they’d look like idiots arguing in front of their guests. At least he’d grabbed the food pack along with his own equipment, meaning she wouldn’t have to carry it. That would significantly lighten her load. And since everyone was in front of her, no one would notice if she limped or favored her foot.
Drew wasn’t stupid. He knew
exactly what he was doing by taking the lead. The question was, why had he done it?
* * *
Drew knew Mandy didn’t understand his actions, and he wasn’t about to confirm that he knew her ankle wasn’t one hundred percent or that she would suffer more if they took the return path she’d planned. She would be struggling by the end of the day anyway given the darkening bruise he’d seen on her leg. She must have fallen somewhere along the way. Why hadn’t he noticed?
Because their guests were restless traveling this easy trail, he searched his brain for unusual things to point out to keep them interested.
“I’m sure you already know that Glacier was the first International Peace Park formed in 1932,” Drew said. “Early management felt that the upper Glacier Valley shouldn’t be divided between the US and Canada so the two parks joined together with both working to preserve the wilderness. Hence Waterton and Glacier National Parks meet on the countries’ boundaries.”
“Right. Bear grass is a mountain lily common to both parks.” Mandy looked somewhat deflated when Rob gave a bored nod. “The long basal leaves were great for making watertight baskets by aboriginal people,” she added.
These so-called environmentalists seemed to grow a little more interested.
“Why is there a fence around those ferns?” Rob asked.
“To protect them. Waterton moonwarts are considered the rarest moonwart in that park. Its appearance here is very unusual, so since it’s growing on our land, we try to make sure it can multiply. We’re very close to the park boundary here.” Drew lurched to a stop. “Don’t talk,” he whispered. “Just watch.”
Below them a massive grizzly was at the creek’s edge, fishing with his paw. He seemed unperturbed by the click of the bankers’ camera lenses as he studiously dipped into the water. Finally he snagged a fish and began tearing into it. The men appeared enthralled. When Mandy took a break on a grassy patch nearby, Drew felt a sense of satisfaction. He could do this.