A Cowboy’s Honor (13 page)

G
racie stood on the sidelines, nervously watching as Dallas checked Misty’s horse and tack for what seemed the hundredth time.

Whenever I am afraid, I will trust in You,
she thought, sending a prayer to Heaven.

“Have you got your juice snack, honey?” she asked, only now realizing how large Patch was, how high up her baby sat.

“Mommy, you asked me that already.”

“Did I? Oh. Sorry.”

“I have my juice, I have my jacket. I will be careful. I will obey Daddy. Okay?”

“I love you, Misty.”

“I love you, too, Mommy. This is going to be so much fun.”

“Try not to worry, Gracie. Remember, God is in control.” Dallas brushed her cheek with his fist, his smile understanding. “It’s only a few hours. We’ll be back before you know it.”

“Dallas,” Gracie whispered, staring up at him. “Please—”

“I know.” He bent his head and kissed her with a tenderness she’d never before felt so deeply. “Remember, she’s my daughter, too.”

“Yes.”

He squeezed her shoulder one last time. Then, at a shout from the trail leader to mount up, he vaulted into his saddle and pulled on the Stetson he was seldom without. He studied her for a long moment, then bent down. Gracie stepped nearer.

“If you start to worry,” he said, “pray. I’ll be praying for you.” After touching her hair, he gathered the reins, told Misty how to direct her horse, and they slowly meandered out of the corral.

Gracie watched until someone nudged her arm.

“We have to go now, dear,” Elizabeth murmured. “They’re here.”

“Yes.” Gracie followed her to the office, met the government officials, answered as many questions as they asked and showed them whatever they needed to see.

But her mind could not release the picture of Misty moving away from her.

If you start to worry, pray. I’ll be praying for you.

“Would it be all right if we took a coffee break now?” she asked Elizabeth.

“Wonderful idea. I know our cook has prepared some delicious snacks. This way, folks.”

As her boss led the licensing group toward the dining hall, Gracie locked herself in her office.

“Oh, God, please be very near my family. I love them both so much.”

Family. They would be—wouldn’t they?

“How are you doing?” The leader paused beside Lady, his face shiny with sweat. “I don’t know where this heat is coming from.” He tilted his head to the west, where clouds were galloping across the sky like a herd of wild stallions. “We’ll take a break in ten minutes.”

“Great. Hear that, Miss? Ten minutes and then we’ll have a rest.”

“I’m not tired. I love this.” She certainly sounded happy. “Patch knows exactly where to go. He’s the best horse.”

“He sure is.” Lady danced a bit and Dallas had to work to get her under control. “Come on, girl. Settle down.”

“Daddy?”

He whirled in his seat at the sudden, terrified scream, saw Patch rear up. Misty grabbed his mane with both hands and bent low, her face pale. Too late Dallas saw the snake slither into the sage. Patch was off and running, so hard Misty was barely able to hang on.

“I’ll get her,” he yelled to the leader. “Look after the others.”

Dallas knew the man couldn’t leave the rest of the kids to help him. They’d need everyone to get the children back to the ranch.

Saving Misty was up to him.

“Hang on, Miss,” he called, urging Lady into a full gallop. “Don’t let go, baby. Keep talking to Patch while I catch him.”

He reached out to grab the horse’s halter, but Patch veered away, heading for a clump of mesquite. Nudging Lady’s flanks, Dallas pushed her harder, came up on Misty’s other side.

“Hurry, Daddy,” she called. “I can’t hang on.”

“You have to. You’re strong, Miss. Ask God to help, and don’t let go.”

They thundered across the dry land, farther and farther away from the group. Her horse did everything it could to escape him, but some intuition blew through Dallas’s mind and told him what to do, how to move, which way to go.

Finally, with his fingers around the bridle, Dallas was able to pull on it, keeping Patch in stride with Lady as he forced both horses to slow.

“Good girl. Keep hanging on and pull on the reins, little by little. Left a bit. Good. Easy, boy. Come on. That’s it, Miss. Pull him back.”

Patch was clear of the mesquite, but still not at all reassured. He danced away, and Dallas lost his grip just as her mount jiggled Misty free of the saddle.

“Misty,” he screamed, grabbing hold of her vest and yanking her into his arms. Startled by his sudden move, Lady shifted to accommodate his weight. But Dallas had lost his stirrups, and with both arms holding his daughter’s precious weight, he couldn’t keep his seat. “Hang on to me, baby. We’re going to fall.”

“Daddy,” she squealed, her arms tight around his neck. “Help me.”

“Help me.”

A jumble of green brush, a small boy and his runaway dog. The memories rushed past like a video on fast-forward. The boy wasn’t hurt, but he wanted his pet back, and it was headed for a very busy highway. Dallas managed to catch the puppy just before it could bound over the rail. He’d returned it to the boy, then continued his forest walk to a waterfall. But he never made it.

Three punks had dragged him off the path, beaten him unconscious.

The past events raced through his brain in a flash before Dallas saw the ground coming at him. He rolled so Misty wouldn’t be crushed. Then his head hit a rock and everything went blurry.

“Daddy? Are you hurt, Daddy?”

Deep in a cavern he heard the voice, remembered his daughter.

“Why don’t you talk to me, Daddy?” Small hands touched his head near the spot where pain radiated in a circle of agony. “Wake up, Daddy.”

“I’m awake, Miss.” Dallas lay still for a minute until the queasiness passed. Then he took stock of their surroundings. Nothing seemed familiar. He couldn’t tell which direction was which. Didn’t know where they should head even if he could catch the horses.

And his head hurt so badly.

“Are you injured, Miss?”

“No. I landed on you.” She touched his cheek. “I think Lady ran away, Daddy.”

“She’ll probably go home. Horses know how to find their way home.” He was going to ask her if Patch was nearby, but then remembered she wouldn’t know. Wouldn’t be able to see. The full impact of their situation hit him.

The leader would send someone to look for them. He’d no doubt radio in and a search party would start out immediately. But until they got here, Dallas and Misty were in danger. The sun would quickly scorch Misty’s fair skin. She’d end up with sunstroke or worse.

They had no water, no food and no shelter.

There could be snakes nearby. Or other animals.

On top of that, thunder rumbled in the distance. Judging from the threatening sky, a storm was moving their way fast.

“Listen to me, Misty. It’s very important. We have to get out of the sun.”

“Aren’t you going to take us home?” Her voice wobbled the tiniest bit.

“As soon as I can, baby. But right now my head is bleeding. I need to rest.”

“I’ll look after you, Daddy. Patch!” she called, her voice softening the way he’d taught her. “Come here, Patch. Come and help Daddy.”

The horse’s whinny carried from some distance away. Dallas struggled to lift his head, but gagged and fought the blackness. He lay still until it receded.

“There’s a stony place about twenty-five steps in front of me. It has a ledge and a scraggly tree we could sit under, where the sun wouldn’t reach us. I don’t feel very good so I’m counting on you to get us there. If I fall down, I want you to go to the ledge and stay there. Don’t worry about me. You get there and stay. Understand?”

“Yes, Daddy. Can you walk now?”

“I don’t know. Can you call Patch again?”

She did, but neither of them missed the angry bray or the thud of hooves retreating.

“Okay. Sounds like he followed Lady. It’s you and I, Miss. Ready?”

“Yes.” She waited till he’d dragged himself upright, then clung to his hand, stepping carefully beside him as they made their way to the ledge.

At this rate unconsciousness would return quickly. Dallas used his last ounce of strength to focus and examine the spot. No nests, no signs of animals, and best of all, no sun.

“Let’s sit here, honey.”

“Okay.” She settled beside him, edged her way under his arm so it lay across her shoulders.

“Misty?”

“Yes, Daddy?”

“I’m not feeling too good. It might be that I’ll fall asleep when you’re talking to me. That’s okay. You just stay put and sooner or later I’ll wake up. I don’t want you to leave here. Promise?”

“I promise. Are you sleepy now?”

“Sort of.” He would force himself to stay conscious as long as possible, but judging by the blood soaking his hair and neck, Dallas knew that might not be for long. “I wish I’d told Gracie I loved her,” he muttered.

“Mommy knows that.” Misty patted his hand.

“She does?”

“Sure. People always know when other people love them. They can tell.”

“How?”

“I dunno. Mommy says they just can.”

He hoped she was right. He was going to need every ounce of love he could summon to gain her forgiveness. He’d promised Gracie he’d keep Misty safe. She would never trust him again.

The knowledge that God was always with him and would never abandon him seeped into his heart. “Thank you, Father.”

“What should we do, Daddy?”

“How about I tell you a story?”

“What kind of a story?” she asked, edging nearer as the thunder rumbled and the earth trembled.

“One about your mommy and me.”

“Can you remember now?”

“Some things. I remember she didn’t like it when I was late for stuff. She didn’t say anything, but her lips would pinch together and she wouldn’t look at me. I’d have to kiss her and make it better.”

“What else?”

“I remember once when she fell off a bicycle. She hit a stone and boom! Over she went. She had a cut on her leg and she was almost crying.”

“Did you kiss her then, too?”

“Yes.” He closed his eyes, remembering the many excuses he’d found to hold Gracie, kiss her, bask in the glow she lit up inside his heart.

The memories of their courtship were precious, yet somehow new. He pulled them out one by one, savored each as he shared them with his daughter.

“I heard you talking to Mommy last night. You asked her if she wanted other kids. Do you want other kids, Daddy?”

Dallas remembered the open window and stifled a groan. He wondered how long Misty would have let the questions build if they hadn’t been stuck out here. Did she think he’d love another child more than her?

“Would you like to have a brother or sister, Misty?”

“I don’t know. Would you go away again?”

“No way. I’m never leaving your mom and you, Miss. I’m staying until you grow up and move away from home, and even then I’ll be there. It wouldn’t matter if we had ten more kids, I’d always love you because you’re my beautiful daughter.”

“Oh.” She remained silent for several moments. “Ten kids is too many for our house, Daddy. Where would they all sleep?”

He couldn’t help laughing.

The sun disappeared, the sky turned black. Apparently the weather forecasters had been wrong about the path of the storm. Rain pushed by screaming winds slashed the earth and spattered around them. Misty huddled in his arms when lightning and thunder began. But it was dry in their hiding place. It took too much effort to speak, so Dallas drew his precious daughter close as shadows lengthened and his brain grew foggy.

The last thing he heard was Misty praying.

“W
e can’t send anyone after them, Gracie. The storm’s made it too dangerous.” Elizabeth reached out to enfold her in a comforting embrace. “No one could have known it would change direction so rapidly. But they’re not alone, dear. God is with them.”

“I knew something would happen.”

Elizabeth didn’t understand. No one did.

Gracie gave Lady another carrot. The horse had sauntered back into camp just before the storm began. She was nervous but unhurt. She was also carrying the packsack with Dallas’s survival gear.

Luke had taken the horse into her stall and brushed her down. She was now happily dry.

A roar from the wranglers went up as Patch appeared. Again Luke stepped in.

All Gracie could think was that now Dallas and Misty were out there unprotected, alone.

“Go home, Gracie. Pray. As soon as the storm passes I promise I’ll send someone out.”

Gracie nodded, drove home in her truck. Even running the short distance from vehicle to house soaked her. She stepped into the shower, wondering how Misty and Dallas could possibly survive this torrential downpour, even if they weren’t hurt.

And the lightning. She winced as another bolt appeared in the sky, stabbed the earth with a powerful flash. Smoke billowed, then disappeared as the sky went black again.

Dry and dressed in warm clothes, she switched on lights all over the house. But it still felt empty without Misty and Dallas nearby. With hot tea in hand she curled up on the love seat to watch the storm.

Dallas would protect Misty with his life. She knew that.

But what about Dallas? Who would care for him?

She picked up her Bible, but didn’t know where to look, what to read. She let it fall open. Isaiah.

Wonderful, Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.

God was all of those things. He could handle a storm.

“I need him,” she whispered out loud. “I need Dallas. He challenges me to live with Your tests, to face them instead of hiding, to grow and be a better mom. I need him back to help me raise Misty, to prove I won’t tarnish her with my fears anymore.”

Gracie padded to her bedroom, picked up the two pictures she kept on her nightstand, and carried them to the living room.

“You gave them to me,” she whispered. “But not long enough. I want a chance to see Misty grow, to tell Dallas I love him. I want my family.”

Gracie had been afraid to trust, because she’d believed God was trying to punish her. For not being a better daughter, a better wife, a better mother.

With new clarity she understood that even if it hurt, God would do His very best for her. Always.

“Please stop the noise, Misty.”

Only it wasn’t Misty. It was the doorbell.

Gracie stumbled off the sofa, threw open the door.

A rain-soaked older couple stood on her doorstep.

“We’re the Hendersons. Do you know where we can find Dallas?”

For the first time in six years Gracie felt no fear. These were not people who could ruin her. She put her faith in God’s plan.

“Please come in. I’m Gracie. I married your son six years ago.”

She urged them into the kitchen, put on the coffeepot as she explained what had happened. But before she could finish the story Elizabeth was tapping on her patio door.

“A search party is leaving in a few minutes. I thought you might like to go.”

“I can’t ride well enough,” she admitted, feeling ashamed.

“You can take the all-terrain vehicle. I’ve put some supplies in it. Go. I’ll look after things here.”

“These are Dallas’s parents,” she said, motioning to the frightened-looking couple. “They need to know—”

“I’ll take care of it. Go with God, Gracie.”

Gracie was almost to the door when she caught sight of Mrs. Henderson’s devastated expression.

She was a mother, too. Her only son, whom she hadn’t seen for six long years, was out there somewhere. Perhaps hurt.

“Do you believe in God, Mrs. Henderson?” she asked quietly.

“Yes.”

“Then depend on Him to help us find Dallas.” Gracie hugged her, then walked out the door.

As she rode over the bumpy terrain behind Luke, scanning the area through binoculars, she realized the stupidity of wasting so long fearing Dallas’s parents, even hating them. Their past rejection didn’t matter now. Maybe Dallas’s family could be hers, too, if she gave them a chance. She now believed in Dallas’s promise to never take Misty from her. He wanted his family as much as she did.

They’d been searching for an hour when someone spotted Misty’s bright pink barrette on the ground. From habit, Gracie thought
what if.
This time she let the thought expand.

What if they were hurt?

Then she’d find them treatment.

What if Dallas remembered?

Then they’d move on, start again.

What if the Hendersons wanted her daughter?

Then she’d teach Misty by example that love grows and expands and includes, that it never cuts anyone out of the family circle.

Life was made up of surprises. Living in fear had cost Gracie sleepless nights, precious moments in Dallas’s arms. She’d almost let it cost Misty her joy in riding.

And what good had it done? Problems had come, anyway. There were no guarantees to life. Except that God loved her husband and her child even more than she did.

And that He would give her the courage to face whatever came next.

“Over there.”

She followed the riders, saw Misty seated under a ledge, smiling as if she’d just enjoyed a wonderful picnic.

Gracie scrambled out of the quad, raced across the tufts of grass and stones to collapse beside her daughter. “Misty! Are you all right?” She squeezed the precious child against her heart.

“I’m okay, Mommy. I was looking after Daddy. He’s been sleeping. He was very tired. He didn’t even hear all the noise in the sky. But I took care of him.”

“That’s wonderful, darling.” Gracie looked over her shoulder, saw Dallas propped up against the rock, felt her world tilt at the sight of blood covering his clothes, the rocks, everything. “Oh, Lord, help us,” she whispered.

Luke led Misty to the quad, explained that he was going to drive her back as soon as they helped her daddy. He radioed their position, and within fifteen minutes a medical chopper had landed and Dallas was being given first aid, readied for a flight to the nearest hospital.

“I’m going with him,” Gracie told the attendant, but he shook his head.

“No room. We’re taking him to Parkland. You’ll have to get yourself there.”

“I need a minute with my husband.”

“Make it quick.”

Gracie bent over the stretcher, brushed her hand against his cheek. “It’s me, Dallas. Gracie. It doesn’t matter if you remember or not. But you made me a promise six years ago. I need you to keep that promise, Dallas. Because I love you. I love you very much. So don’t even think of getting out of this marriage.” She kissed him.

Within minutes he was loaded on board and the chopper had disappeared.

“Come on, Misty. We need to get you home.”

“So we can go visit Daddy?”

“That and so you can meet somebody. I think you’re really going to like them.”

Gracie tucked her daughter into her arms and spent the ride home listening as Misty related her exciting night away from home. And as she listened, Gracie sent prayers of thanksgiving toward Heaven. God had brought them this far. Her daughter wasn’t traumatized, wasn’t afraid and wasn’t hurt.

God wouldn’t abandon them now.

It took only a few minutes for her and Misty to wash and change. Mrs. Henderson, alerted by Elizabeth, had packed a lunch, which she doled out to them as Gracie drove toward the city. With her hunger satiated, Misty closed her eyes and fell fast asleep next to the grandfather she’d just met.

“She’s a wonderful child. You must be very proud,” he murmured.

“Yes, I am,” Gracie agreed.

“I want to apologize for our poor behavior toward you, Gracie,” Mrs. Henderson stated.

“You remember?” She took her eyes from the road long enough to see regret fill the dark eyes so like Dallas’s.

“Sort of. I remember you said you were married to him. We should have believed you. But we’d offered a reward for information and there were so many people claiming the same thing, and we were so distraught.”

“It’s not an excuse,” her husband said quietly. “But we couldn’t imagine that Dallas would have married without telling us. It seemed very unlikely.”

“The morning after we’d sent you away, I found a note from him in the mail,” Mrs. Henderson said.

Gracie’s heart bumped. Answers maybe, at last? “Where was it postmarked?”

“Oregon. He told us he loved you, said that we would, too.” She sniffed, wiped her eyes. “But instead of loving you, we sent you away. You were pregnant with Misty then.”

“Yes.”

“So you had to manage all alone. I’m so sorry.” She shook her head. “We wanted to find you, but I couldn’t remember your name, didn’t know how to reach you. Our own foolishness made us miss knowing the best daughter and granddaughter in the world. Gracie, can you ever forgive us?”

“Of course.” She felt no regret, no sadness, no anger. “It wasn’t only your fault. I should have gone back to see you, persisted.”

“Why didn’t you?”

“I was afraid you’d try to take Misty from me. I couldn’t lose her.”

“Of course you couldn’t. She’s so precious. I just wish—”

“Let’s forget the past, shall we? Let’s concentrate on the present, on getting Dallas better.”

“Amen,” his father said from behind them.

Misty awakened when they arrived at the hospital, where they were told Dallas was in surgery. The longer it took, the more worried Gracie grew, though she tried to hide it from her child. The Hendersons took Misty to the cafeteria several times, walked outside with her, took her to the playground, anything to keep her busy.

And each time Gracie used the minutes alone to pray.

At six o’clock that evening, Dallas was rolled out of surgery and into intensive care.

“He probably won’t wake up till tomorrow,” the surgeon explained. “He’s lost a lot of blood, but we were able to relieve the pressure on his brain. He’s going to have a bad headache, but if he wakes up lucid within twenty-four hours he has a good chance of pulling through. You should try and get some rest.”

“Thank you,” she said quietly. “I am at rest.”

“Your faith is remarkable, Gracie.” Dallas’s father studied her. “You don’t seem at all worried. Why?”

“Credit your son. Dallas taught me to stop living in fear, to trust God to handle the parts I can’t. It took me a long time to learn that lesson. He’s a very special man.”

“He certainly found himself a special wife.”

Both parents were delighted when she suggested they visit his room first. When they emerged, white-faced but relieved, Gracie hugged them each.

“He’s so pale.” Mrs. Henderson seemed about to weep.

“Don’t give up. God is still at work,” she replied.

Gracie drew Misty into the room with her. “Daddy’s asleep right now,” she explained. “But I think that way deep inside he knows we’re here and he can hear us. Do you want to say anything to him?”

She placed Misty’s hand on Dallas’s arm. Misty felt her way to his palm, tucked her fingers inside and smiled. “I could sing him my song.”

“Lovely, darling. But very softly. The other patients are trying to rest.”

So Misty began singing her sweet Father’s Day solo to the man who’d slipped into their lives and taken over their hearts.

“Your daddy must be very proud of you,” one of the nurses said.

“He loves me,” Misty told her. “And I love him. When he wakes up we’re going on another horse ride.”

It was late when they left Dallas’s room. Misty was visibly drooping.

“There’s a very nice hotel nearby. Why don’t we all go and rest for a while?” Mrs. Henderson urged, scooping the little girl into her arms. Misty laid her head on the comfortable shoulder and promptly fell asleep.

“I want to stay with Dallas,” Gracie told them. She whispered a prayer, then took another step of faith. “Would it be too much to ask you to look after Misty tonight? She’s very tired. I’m pretty sure she won’t wake up during the night, but if she does, you could call me here and I’d come immediately.”

“We’d be honored, Gracie,” Mr. Henderson declared. “Thank you for trusting us.”

She did trust them, which was a wonderful feeling. But she also trusted God. When they left, Gracie returned to Dallas’s bedside, linked her fingers with his and sat down to wait for him to waken.

And while she waited, she talked to the One who held the world in His hands.