Reunited with the Cowboy (15 page)

Chapter Fourteen

“H
ey, Marnie. Did Heather come to see you?” John clung to the phone, his other hand planted on his hip as he stood looking out the window of his house. He'd spent the past couple hours trying to track her down. When he'd first called her cell phone, Keira had answered, telling him that Heather had left it behind at the ranch.

He had called the mechanic. Heather had picked up her car before two. When John called Kim, all she'd told him was that she had dropped Heather off at the mechanic's and hadn't seen her since.

It was now four o'clock and she still wasn't back from town. As far as he knew, the only errands she'd planned were to get her car and talk to Marnie.

“No. I was hoping she would come today. I thought she was going to,” Marnie said.

John leaned his forehead against the cool glass of the window. His head ached and his heart hurt.

He knew he had overreacted to Heather's news. But what else was he supposed to do? She'd thrown all that information at him and then left.

She hadn't stuck around long enough for him to absorb what she'd told him. To deal with it and talk to her about it.

He started calling a few other numbers. Brooke hadn't seen Heather, nor had she stopped in at the Grill and Chill. She hadn't picked up groceries or visited any of the gas stations in town.

He finally put the phone down. He had no other choice. He was going to have to drive to town to find her. It was a long shot, but he didn't know what else to do.

He grabbed his jean jacket, settled his hat on his head and was about to leave when Keira came up the walk. His heart lifted. He yanked open the door just as she raised a hand to knock.

But the concerned look on her face told John that she didn't know anything, either.

“I don't suppose you've heard from Heather,” he said, shoving his hands in the back pockets of his blue jeans.

Keira shook her head. “Can I come in?”

John stepped aside and let her enter. Maybe what she had to say would help him find Heather.

Keira looked around the house. “Heather always loved this place, you know,” she said gently.

John stifled a moment of frustration, reminding himself just to listen.

“I'm worried about her,” Keira said. “She's not back from town yet.”

“I know. I was going to go out and look for her. I'm afraid that I wasn't...wasn't helpful just before she left.”

“What do you mean?”

John pushed his hat back on his head and sighed. “She told me about Mitch, how he treated her and how she lost the baby because of him, and I asked her why she'd stayed with him. It was a stupid thing to say.”

Keira gasped, and John guessed it was her reaction to his unthinking question.

“Why do you think she did?” he asked. “I don't understand why she didn't come home. Why she let him do that to her.”

Keira clasped her hands together, as if gathering her thoughts. “I don't know what Heather told you about her life with her mother, but it was incredibly rough. Hard on her. I remember she had a couple of bruises that were different colors, which meant one was newer than the older one. I wonder if she didn't think that the kind of life Mitch gave her was the only kind she deserved. He was like her mom, and maybe she felt that would be the pattern of her life. It's not unusual.”

“I want to find her. Want to talk to her. I need to talk to her.” John dragged a hand over his face, wishing he could sort out his thoughts. “This time around I don't want to let her get away, I want to fight for her. I want to show her what she really means to me, but I don't know where to start.”

“I think I have an idea where you might find her,” Keira said.

* * *

Heather sat on the hill overlooking the trailer park that had been her home for the six months she'd lived with her mother in Saddlebank.

The tin was peeling off the sides of the trailer she and her mom had lived in, and she could see the roof was lifting in places. The wooden steps leading to the door were askew, the handrail broken. Dried weeds choked what was supposed to be a lawn and flower beds.

She had already tried knocking on the door, but no one answered, and from what she could see through the broken window, it looked as if no one had lived there for a long while. As a young girl, she had never stayed in any one place longer than six or seven months, anyhow. But Kim's comment about her mother had sent her here to check for herself.

The sound of canned laughter from a television show drifted out a window of one of the trailers. A truck engine growled down the street and a few kids ran down the cracked sidewalk below her, laughing. Heather wrapped her hands around her knees, still looking at the trailer below her, trying to separate who she was now from who she'd been then. From her mother's memory.

See, I have engraved you on the palms of my hands
.

The quote from the Bible passage floated over the past.

Heather clung to the words. She was valuable. She was important. Not because she was Heather, but because she was God's child.

She laid her head on her knees and drew in a long, steadying breath as she felt the connection to her mother loosen. She wasn't her mother's daughter. She was first and foremost God's child.

“Help me, Lord,” she whispered. “Help me to know who I am. To believe that You love me just as I am, but also that You will help me become better. That You will help me be the person You see me to be.”

The sound of a vehicle stopping directly below her made her lift her head. She saw a dark truck that was achingly familiar. The same truck she had seen only a few weeks ago, when she'd come back to the area.

John got out, his eyes fixed on her.

He paused a moment, as if unsure what to do. Then he slammed the door of the truck and strode up the hill toward her.

“Keira told me you might be here,” he said, pulling his hat off his head as he stopped near her.

Heather looked up at him, not certain what to think. Her eyes skittered away. She wasn't sure where to look.

Then John sat down beside her, facing the trailer, his wrists resting on his bent knees, his hat hanging from his fingers.

“So, is this where you lived when you and your mother moved here?” he finally asked.

“Until I got adopted by the Bannisters, yes.” She had to stifle a sense of shame at the sight of the ramshackle trailer.

John was quiet a moment, working his hat around in his hands, then he turned to her. “I don't really know what to say, so I'll go with I'm sorry. I shouldn't have reacted the way I did. All I can say, in my defense, is that I was shocked. Shocked and angry.” His hands tightened on his hat as his eyes held hers. “I wanted to hurt Mitch very badly.”

Heather couldn't look away from him. “I thought you were disgusted with me.”

“I was disgusted. But not with you. Never with you.” He reached out to touch her, then pulled his hand away, as if he had no right. “Never with you. With Mitch and what he did to you. You have to believe me.”

“I want to,” she said, a lifetime of insecurity edging around her subconscious. “It's just that I've struggled so long with the thought that I'm like my mother. I figured that what happened with me and Mitch made me just like her.”

“How can you say that? You are nothing like your mother.”

His words, the exact replica of what Keira had said as they drove away from the bridal shower, gave Heather renewed hope. And the fierceness of his tone awoke the possibilities she had quashed on her drive with Mrs. Panko.

“How do you know?” she asked, as if testing what he was telling her, to see if it would hold under questioning. He was silent for a moment, letting her inquiry fade away in the quiet afternoon air. But behind that question hovered Mrs. Panko's comments, which so easily underlined the misgivings that had always haunted Heather. “I've made so many of the same bad decisions she made.”

“I don't remember ever seeing your mother after you moved in with the Bannisters. Was she allowed to visit?”

“I think so.”

“Did your mother ever call you after you moved to the ranch?”

Heather slowly shook her head, wondering where he was going. “No. She didn't.”

John gave her a careful smile, lifted his hand as if to touch her, then stopped. Heather wished he would, but waited, sensing he had more to say.

He turned his hat around in his hands. “The reason I can say with such conviction that you are nothing like your mother is because I saw the sorrow in your face when you looked at Adana. I saw how it hurt you to be around her. I know now that you were still grieving the child you lost. I know, if you had an inkling that she was still alive, you would move heaven and earth to find her. Something your mother never did.”

“But some of the choices I made...”

“You made those choices because you were scared. Because I didn't listen to you. Not because you are like her, but because you didn't get the support you should have.” He reached out and touched her face gently, his finger grazing her cheek, his eyes expressing the regret she heard in his voice. “I'm so sorry I wasn't there for you.”

“You, of all people, have nothing to be sorry for,” she said softly.

“You're wrong. I do. I'm sorry I didn't listen better to you when you called me from college, when you were so lost and confused. I'm sorry I didn't get into my truck and drive down and talk to you face-to-face instead of thinking you were trying to break up with me.”

“Which I did.”

“Because I didn't fight for you like Monty and Ellen did.” John cupped her face in his hand. “You were scared and alone, and I left you there. You may have been the one to make the first move, but I pushed you to do it. I should have known better and should have trusted you more.”

His words were like a balm and Heather let them heal her.

“I care for you more than I thought it was possible to care for anyone,” he continued, his voice growing quiet. He put his hand on her shoulder, his palm heavy, strong and warm. “I...I love you.”

Heather gasped as she looked up at him, hardly daring to believe what he was saying.

“I love you, Heather. I think I always have. I know I always will.”

She could only stare at him.

He released a nervous laugh. “So I'm thinking this isn't what you want to hear?”

“It is. It is something I've been waiting to hear all my life.”

She pulled him close, pressed her lips to his and he wrapped his arms around her, creating a place of safety and security.

She let his touch comfort and strengthen her.

After a long, satisfying moment, he tucked her head against his neck, his cheek pressed against hers as he eased out a deep sigh. “It's been a long time getting here,” he said, gently rocking her. “But I'm so thankful we made it. I never want you to leave. I need you to stay. I want you to be my wife.”

Heather closed her eyes, reveling in the moment. Then she gently pulled away and brushed a kiss over his cheek. Bracketing his beloved face between her hands, she held his gaze.

“I want to be your wife,” she said. “I want you to be my husband. I'd love to be a mother to Adana. I'm going to need your help, though.”

John shook his head, brushing a strand of hair out of her face, and following up with another kiss. “No. You won't need any help at all. You know exactly how to be a mother.”

“You think so?”

“I know so.” He took her hand and squeezed it tightly. “You have a loving heart. I think we'll do just fine.”

“With God's help and guidance, I think we will, too.”

He kissed her again as if to seal their declarations.

“Can we get up now?” he asked.

“Of course.”

“The grass is still a bit wet,” he said, standing and pulling her to her feet.

“I know. I didn't want to say anything to spoil the moment.”

John laughed. “I don't think anything can spoil this moment. Now let's get back to the ranch.”

“Back home,” Heather said.

“I love the sound of those words,” he replied, punctuating that with another kiss.

Epilogue

“I
think the Pankos are here,” John called out from the porch.

Heather ran her hands down her jeans, surprised at how nervous she was about facing Sandy's parents again. Especially Kim.

After Heather and John had expressed their love for each other, they had come back to the ranch house to talk to Monty and Ellen. John had asked Monty for his daughter's hand and, thankfully, her father had agreed.

They had spent some time together, laughing, planning and simply enjoying the moment.

Then John had called his mother-in-law and asked her to please bring Adana home tonight. Both Heather and John wanted her back at the ranch.

“It's fine,” Ellen had said, touching Heather's shoulder. “You and John need to talk to her and straighten a few things out. She had no right to tell you what she did.”

In spite of her mother's assurances that all would go well with Kim and Rex, Heather's heart fluttered like a panicked bird. She inhaled a number of deep breaths, the same thing she did before every photo shoot. Then she sent up a quick prayer and walked through the kitchen to the porch, where John was pulling on his boots.

He stood and gave her a smile of assurance, pulling her into his arms and pressing a gentle kiss to her lips. “It will be fine,” he said. “They're good people at heart.”

Then, holding hands, they walked out to the car.

Rex had taken Adana out of her seat and Kim was walking around the vehicle, carrying her overnight bag. She stopped when she saw John and Heather.

Then she walked over to her husband and took Adana from him, holding her close.

“Thanks for bringing Adana back early,” John said, stopping in front of his in-laws. “We wanted her to be here with us.” He squeezed Heather's hand and pulled her closer. “I just asked Heather to marry me and she's agreed. We wanted Adana to be a part of this.”

Kim's gaze flicked from Heather to John, then to Adana, and Heather caught the glint of tears in her eyes.

“I see,” she said simply.

“Congratulations to both of you.” Rex shook John's hand and gave Heather a nervous smile.

Rex had always been kind to her and Heather returned his smile. “Thank you so much.”

Kim rested her head on Adana's, and Heather's heart crumpled when she saw the tears drifting down the older woman's face.

She pressed a kiss to her granddaughter's cheek. “Go to Heather. She's going to be your new mommy now. I'll miss you so much.” Kim closed her eyes, rocking the little girl. Rex rested his hand on Adana's shoulder and Heather saw the glint of tears in his eyes, as well.

“Never forget us, little girl,” Rex said, his own voice gruff.

Heather glanced from Kim to Rex, confused. “You sound as if you might never see her again,” she said in a questioning voice. “Why would you think that?”

Kim sniffed, then looked slowly up at her. “You're going to be John's wife. He has his parents, you have yours. That's hard enough to juggle as it is.”

“But she's still your granddaughter,” Heather said, stunned that they would think they would simply be shut out of Adana's life.

“That will never change,” John reiterated.

Kim swiped her tears away one-handed, her cheeks still damp. “What do you mean?”

“Heather and I both know how important family is,” John said, giving her a smile of encouragement. “Our marriage will change things for Adana. But you need to know that you will always have a place in her life that no one will ever take away.”

Kim was speechless.

“Thanks so much for that,” Rex said, slipping his arm around his wife and pulling her and his granddaughter close.

Kim looked down at Adana, fresh tears flowing. “That means so much to us,” she said. Then she turned to Heather. “I have to admit, when you came back I was scared. I've always known how special you were to John.” Kim held her gaze. “I was jealous of the place you held in his life, that was all. I wasn't a good person to you, and I was afraid that if you and John got back together again, you would push me out because of how I treated you, then and now.”

Heather heard the pain in her voice and appreciated the woman's honesty. She laid a reassuring hand on her shoulder.

“I know from personal experience how hard life can be,” she said. “I also know that you can't have too many people watching your back. I spent a lot of years without a father and with an absent mother. Adana is so blessed to have so many people who love her. I would appreciate and welcome your help in raising this little girl.”

Kim released a short laugh. “I may not have always been approving of you, or welcoming, but I do know that you were a loving friend to my daughter. And I know you will be a good mother to Adana. You have a good, faithful heart.”

“Hearing you say that means more than you will ever know,” Heather murmured.

“Again, I'm so sorry,” Kim said. Then she sighed, pressed another kiss to the little girl's head and started to hand her over to Heather. But Adana clung to her, snuggling into her shoulder.

“Honey, you need to go to Heather,” Kim said.

“Wuv you, Gamma,” Adana answered.

John put one hand on Kim's shoulder and held Heather's with the other, as if completing a circle. “We're family. We need each other. That will never change.”

“That's a real blessing,” Rex said. “And we want to wish you God's richest blessing, as well.”

Kim gave them both a teary smile. “I agree with Rex.”

Then, together, they walked toward the ranch house.

Toward their new future.

* * * * *

Keep reading for an excerpt from A DAD FOR HER TWINS by Lois Richer.