A Cowboy’s Honor (7 page)

Dallas rose, too, his hand on her arm as he called out how many steps to the teeter-totter. “I’ll be there in a minute.” He turned to Gracie, his face earnest. “I’m her father. Please let us have some time together. After the busy week we’ve had, you need a break. Take it. Let her get to know herself. And me her. Without watching us all the time.”

His pleading voice affected Gracie. “I’ll think about it.”

“Trust me, won’t you?”

“I’m trying.”

“I know. I appreciate it.” He brushed his thumb over her lips, causing a minor earthquake in the region of her heart. “You stretch out, get a bit of color in your cheeks. Misty and I will be over there.” Dallas pointed to the teeter-totter, brushed his hand against her hair, then loped across the grass toward their daughter.

Gracie sat down, knees too weak to hold her upright.

Dallas was taking over. She hadn’t really absorbed the fact that he was back yet, and now watching him move Misty up and down on the beam didn’t reassure her at all. In her mind she knew he was right, that she had to help Misty become more independent. But in her heart all Gracie wanted was to snuggle her precious baby close and keep her safe from all of life’s troubles.

She needed Misty as much as Misty needed her.

Gracie remained seated on the blanket, watching. And while she watched, she saw her child gain confidence as Dallas encouraged her to try different things. The swing, the teeter-totter, hanging from the bars—Misty gloried in all of them, her face beaming with excitement. But when Dallas held her up so she could grasp the handle of the child’s zip-line, Gracie could no longer stay silent. She got up and approached the teeter-totter.

“I think that’s enough now.”

“Not yet, Mommy. This is the most fun I’ve ever had!” Misty hollered, then squealed with delight as Dallas let her go and she swung through the air.

Gracie tried to repress the hurt. A glance at Dallas’s face told her he understood her pain, how deeply those innocent words cut, when she’d spent the past five years giving everything she had.

“Don’t be upset, Gracie. She didn’t mean anything by it.”

She jerked her eyes away from his, scanned the playground to where Misty had just walked.

“She’s talking to Rory. She’s fine.”

Rory and two other children Gracie didn’t recognize.

“They’re just being kids, joking with each other. They’ll be fine.”

He was right. Rory had hold of Misty’s hand and was leading her toward the swings. He waited until she’d climbed into one before laying down his canes and gently pushing the swing into motion.

“Rory’s mother is watching them, Gracie. They’ll be fine.”

Just then a woman waved her hand and smiled.

“Misty was trying to convince him to play with the dolls she brought in her backpack. Rory has a truck. Dolls and trucks don’t seem to go together, but they worked it out. Kids usually do.”

“I guess.” Gracie fiddled with the grass, pulling the greenest spears.

“You’re with her or at work all the time. Don’t you ever want some time to yourself?”

“What do you mean?” Suspicion edged its way into her heart.

“I mean you have no free time. It must be difficult.”

“I love Misty.”

“I know that, but if I were to spend a day with her, or even an afternoon, you could go shopping, get your hair done, whatever.” Dallas’s voice softened. “She’d be safe with me, Gracie.”

“That’s what it’s really about, isn’t it? You’re trying to steal my daughter.” Her heart filled with fury and fear.

“My daughter, too, remember.” He sighed, tilted his head back as if stretching out a knot in his neck. “I’m not going to kidnap her. I just want, need, time to be with her, for her to get used to me. That’s all I’m asking for, Gracie.”

That’s all he was asking now. But what would happen when his memory returned? Dallas kept wanting more and more. What if he wanted to take Misty away with him? How would Gracie combat his parents?

“We’ve seen a hundred girls exactly like you. Girls claiming to be our son’s wives, girlfriends, lovers. You’ll say anything to collect that reward money, won’t you? But our son would have told us if he’d married. He would not have left his wife alone and pregnant. So I’d advise you to go and don’t come back. Or we’ll have you arrested.”

The memory of that big oak door slamming shut in her face still stung. Gracie jumped to her feet.

“What’s wrong?”

Dallas was good at reading her. He’d probe and press until she finally admitted the truth, and that was the one thing Gracie had promised herself she’d never do. He would never know how callously they’d treated her, of their arrogant dismissal when she’d needed them so desperately. She could never tell him that his own parents had rejected her and the child she was carrying.

“Gracie?”

“You want time with her? You’ve got this afternoon. I’ll be back in a couple of hours.”

She checked one last time to be sure Misty was all right. Dallas noticed.

“She’ll be fine. I’ll make sure of that, Gracie, I promise.” He was beside her, touching her arm. “You can trust me.”

She stepped away, desperate to escape the fluttering of her heart. “I’ll just tell her so she won’t worry when I’m not here.”

Dallas said nothing, simply stood there while Gracie explained to Misty.

“Okay, Mommy. Me and Rory are going to play for a while, then Dallas said I could have a big ice cream cone. A chocolate one.”

“That sounds yummy.” She hugged the tiny girl to her heart, kissed her cheek and hurriedly said goodbye. Misty was so easily willing to replace her with Dallas. The knowledge scraped her already skinned nerves.

Sympathy shone in Dallas’s dark gaze. Gracie turned away from it.

“See you later,” she said.

But as she drove toward the city, Gracie couldn’t help wondering if this was the first of many times she’d be on her own while father and daughter enjoyed a day. Fear grabbed her at the thought of being locked out of Misty’s life.

Unsure of what to do with her newfound freedom, Gracie headed for the only place in Dallas she’d ever found happiness. The arboretum.

Dallas knew he’d goofed badly when he took Misty home and found Gracie thrashing through the pool.

He’d seen her vehicle return, knew she hadn’t been able to stay away, to trust him without being there in case her daughter needed her. That lack of trust had bitten deeply.

He had to keep reminding himself that he had left her for six years. Remember that she recalled every lonely night, every terror-filled moment when no one had been there to support or encourage her.

By the time Gracie climbed out of the water and pretended to listen to Misty’s long-winded explanation of what they’d done that afternoon, Dallas had conquered his irritation at her unreasonable fear. Now he just wished he could wrap his arms around her.

“That’s lovely, darling. I’m glad you enjoyed yourself. I guess I’d better get dinner.”

“But that’s the best part. Me and Dallas made pizza!” Misty glowed with excitement. “I cut up the peppers and onions and mushrooms.”

“Cut?” Gracie’s blue eyes turned glacial.

“She used a table knife,” he said softly.

“An’ I grated some of the cheese. But I cutted my hand. See?” Misty held up her bandaged knuckle for her mother’s inspection. “It doesn’t hurt. Not really. Cheese feels funny when you grate it.”

“Does it?”

“We went on a frog hunt after that. Dallas lets me do lots of stuff, Mommy. Can we do stuff with him tomorrow?”

“We’ll see.”

Misty sighed, nudged him in the ribs. “That mostly means no,” she said, her forehead creasing. “I don’t think Mommy is very happy.”

“I’m—”

“Didn’t you have a good time shopping, Mommy?” She danced from one foot to the other. “Did you buy a new dress?”

“A new dress? Why? Do I need one?”

Dallas winced at the glare she shot his way.

“You always look lovely,” he said sincerely, wishing he remembered more about his wife’s quicksilver moods. “No matter what you wear.”

“Dallas said he’ll take us for real pizza sometime,” Misty interjected. “To a pizza restaurant called Martini’s. I thought maybe you went to get a dress for that.”

“Martini’s?” Gracie frowned at him. “You remembered?”

“The name.” He shrugged. “It came back when we were making the pizza. It seemed important so I checked in the phone book. I guess it’s still doing business.”

“Yes, it is.” Gracie looked away, her cheeks slightly pink.

She pretended nonchalance, but Dallas knew from her reaction there was more to it. “What else should I have remembered, Gracie?”

“We had dinner there after we were married.”

“Oh.” He prayed for patience. Would these black holes ever fill with memories again?

Silence stretched for a few moments.

“What did you make your pizza crust out of?”

“I borrowed some refrigerator dough from the mess hall cook.” He waited for her to comment on the lack of nutrition, but Gracie only held his gaze for several moments. Then she smiled.

“Then I guess we’d better cook it. Or you should. I’ll shower while you and Misty get things ready.” Gracie went into the house, leaving them on the patio.

Dallas caught the challenge in her comment. He wanted time with his daughter; she’d give it to him and watch him royally mess up.

Only Dallas didn’t intend to mess up. Every time he looked at Misty he had an urge to tell the whole world,
This is my little girl.
He believed God was with him, helping him regain his life.

“Come on, Miss. We have to get dinner on.” Dallas put their pizza in the oven and then showed Misty how to set the table.

“Very good!” He applauded when she’d arranged two other settings exactly like his. “Now we’ll pour you a drink.”

Misty dribbled a lot onto the counter but she was proud of herself for filling the glass. While they waited for the pizza to be done, they happily created a salad together.

Gracie seemed pleased at their accomplishments, until he stayed her hand when she would have stopped Misty from serving the first slice of pizza. Then her face froze, she jerked her hand away and said nothing more to him.

“Excellent service, Miss Henderson. Now mine.” He held out his plate.

Misty found the edge of the plate he held out, slid the server under another piece of pizza, then carefully laid it on his plate. She glowed with pride. Dallas stared at Gracie, silently begging her to notice.

“It’s wonderful pizza, honey. And the salad was scrumptious. You’re a good cook.” She hugged Misty until the little girl wiggled away, insisting her mother had to taste the dessert, which turned out to be an apple for each of them, polished to a high sheen.

Funny how much Dallas wished Gracie would hug him like that.

But he couldn’t have been prouder of Misty’s success. He cleaned up the kitchen while Gracie helped Misty prepare for bed. Twice he heard the sound of stifled yawns, proof of Misty’s overtiredness. His fault.

“Can I help?” He stood in the doorway of Misty’s room, noting the weary slope of Gracie’s shoulders. She was running on nerves. “How about bedtime prayers?”

“I already said them. It’s time for a story. I always have a story before bed, but Mommy says not tonight,” Misty told him, pouting.

“Would it be okay if I sang a lullaby instead?” Dallas offered, longing to be a part of their ritual.

“Sing?” It was clear his wife had forgotten his love of music, something he’d only recently discovered himself.

“I don’t have a guitar, but I think I can still carry a tune. Shove over, kiddo.” At least Misty seemed excited.

Dallas thought for a moment, then began a ballad that had been in his head for the past several days. He heard a muffled sound behind him, saw Gracie rush out.

What now? Something from the past, no doubt.

He was weary of these land mines. If he could only remember.

Misty pressed him to continue, and he did. In fact, he made it halfway through the second verse before her eyelids dropped and she sighed, snuggled into her pillow and fell fast asleep.

Dallas eased off the bed and pulled the covers up to her chin. He bent, brushed his lips against her porcelain skin.

“Good night, sweet Misty.”

The night-light was already on so he left the room, and prayed for wisdom when he saw Gracie hunched over on the patio, her cheeks shiny with tears in the bright moonlight.

G
racie knew the moment Dallas left Misty’s room. She heard his light-footed tread, the swish of the patio door, his quick, soft inhalation before he stepped outside.

Every movement made her nerves tighter.

She’d chosen to sit in the patio swing beside the door. Dallas sat down beside her, touched her chin so she had to look at him. Her blood traitorously sang at his touch.

“What did I do wrong?”

“Nothing.” She summoned a smile. “It’s just…hard. You know?”

“Because you’ve been her world for so long and now I’m butting in and taking over.”

She blinked at him in surprise.

“I’m not trying to push you out, Gracie. But we’re both her parents. That’s the way God created families. She needs both of us. We bring balance to her world.”

“I know.”

“But?”

“I saw the way she handled making the pizza and the salad, Dallas. I know I’ve shielded her too much.”

“Misty learns so quickly. She could do so much more for herself.”
If you’d let her.

“I didn’t intentionally stunt her growth, you know.” Anger flared, red-hot. “I don’t know why you persist in seeing me as some kind of domineering witch who cages her daughter. It isn’t like that. I give her as much freedom as I can, but I also have to be mindful of her boundaries. Just because you have her doing new things doesn’t change my role or make my decisions wrong.”

“Gracie, I’m not criticizing you.”

“It sure seems like it.” The memories of his song and its promise ate at her composure, but Grace hung on, struggled to refocus on what she needed to say. “For five years I’ve had to gauge every decision, make sure I didn’t press too hard, ease forward, with no idea if I was doing the right thing or the wrong. I’ve put everything on hold so that Misty can develop at her own pace. It hasn’t exactly been easy and I’ve questioned my choices many times.”

“You’ve done a wonderful job with her.”

“I couldn’t afford the extras she should have had. I did what I could but—” She bit her lip, refusing to break down now.

“Gracie, you did everything right. Look at Misty, really look at her, and you’ll know that. The extras don’t matter.”

“They do, though,” she whispered, finally accepting that Dallas could give their child far more than she ever could. “I realized she needed more, but I couldn’t do anything about it until I finished my training. Then, when Elizabeth asked me to come here, I jumped at the chance, even though it meant leaving everything familiar behind. It was a way to get all the things for Misty that I couldn’t provide. People who know what she needs, a place where she’s safe, more time to spend with her.”

All the things Dallas and his parents could give her without a second thought.

“You’ve made good choices.”

“Have I? I’m not so sure.”

Gracie thought of the nights she’d sat watching her baby, wondering if she should have gone back to his parents’ house, forced them to see how much Misty resembled Dallas. His parents could have paid for anything Misty needed. Her little girl might have wanted for nothing if Gracie had only pushed them.

But what if they’d tried to take her baby? The terror of that possibility had directed every decision.

“The past is done, Gracie. We can’t change it. All we have is tomorrow.”

“Yes.” At least until the police found his parents.

“So? Will you let her spend more time with me? Without coming back early, checking up on us, getting other people to report on me?”

Heat scorched her cheeks. Dallas knew what she’d been doing; knew but didn’t seem angry.

He was trying so hard. He loved their daughter. He would never let anything hurt her.

Gracie capitulated. “Wednesday evenings. I need a couple of hours to keep up with my records. Maybe…” She swallowed hard. “Maybe you could make her dinner, put her to bed?”

“I could,” he whispered, covering Gracie’s hand with his. “And perhaps Sundays? Could I take her to church?”

“Church?” To learn about God—who hadn’t been there when Gracie needed Him most?

“They have a class for kids her age. She’d meet new friends. It would expose her to somewhere other than the Bar None. Only for a few hours. You could come, too, if you want to make sure it’s okay.”

“Why church?” The pleading in Dallas’s voice, the light in his eyes confused her. What had God done for him except take everything away?

“Because I want Misty to know God loves her and that He’ll be with her always. That she can count on Him when you and I seem to fail her.” Dallas’s eyes blazed with a light Gracie didn’t understand. “It’s the only thing that’s helped me through the darkest times. The knowledge that even if I never remember, God will still be with me and that He’ll help me figure out my next step.”

“I guess it would be okay,” she muttered.

“Thank you.” He hugged her, drawing her to him. “We’ll get through this, Gracie. You and me. Together. We’ll figure out how to raise our daughter the way God intended.”

“I’m not real big on God,” she admitted. His chest rumbled beneath her. He was laughing.

“That doesn’t matter, honey,” he said into her hair.

“It doesn’t?” He didn’t try to persuade or convince her to share his faith. That surprised her. “Why?”

“Because God is big on you. He loves you dearly and He will never, ever walk away if you ask Him for help.”

A lump formed in Gracie’s throat. Dallas’s hand stroked over her head as she struggled to speak.

“He did walk away from me. I prayed and prayed that you would come back. But you never did. Where was God then, Dallas?”

“Right beside you.” He cupped his hands against her cheeks, lifted her head so she had to meet his gaze. “God didn’t leave you or abandon you, Gracie. He was there every step of the way, even when you didn’t realize it.” Dallas’s thumb brushed over her mouth.

Gracie fought past the longing. She needed the answer to this question. “Then why didn’t He change things? Why didn’t He send you home?”

“I don’t know, sweetheart. I only know that somehow, some way, He will bring good out of what we think is bad. If you trust no one else, trust Him.”

Dallas kissed her, slowly, but with a world of feeling packed into that gentle embrace. For a moment Gracie was transported back in time to those first heady moments of marriage, when she’d believed the world was finally granting her wildest dream.

But then thunder rumbled in the distance, lightning blazed across the sky and she was back in no-man’s-land, married, but not really.

She recoiled, tried to ease away from him. But Dallas didn’t let her go. He captured her face again, stared into her eyes, his own clear, determined.

“I can’t go back, Gracie. I can’t make anything better or be the guy you remember. All I can do is be here now, do my best to care for you and our child, and pray God will heal my mind so I can be the husband and father I should be. I trust Him to do that. Can you?”

“I don’t know,” she answered honestly after a stretch of time. “Trust isn’t something I do easily.”

“You’ll wait and see? Is that it?” Dallas smiled sadly, traced her eyebrows, the line of her nose, the fullness of her top lip and the jut of her chin.

“I guess.” She wished he’d kiss her again. When he did that all the fears and worries melted and she could only remember how much she’d loved him, how much hope had built up inside during those eight short days of marriage, how the fear that no one would ever love her had finally shriveled and died. “I’ll try.”

“Then we’ll go with that. But remember one thing, Gracie.” His arms fell away. All that held her now was the sheen in his eyes. “God won’t push His way into your life. Either you accept that He is who He says He is, that He has His own reasons for doing things, or you don’t.”

She wasn’t sure she understood exactly what Dallas was saying. She knew he wanted to share her parenting role, and she was prepared to allow that.

But the God he was talking about wasn’t a concept she understood.

God had taken her husband, abandoned her and her baby when they most needed Him. How could she depend on Him now?

“Tomorrow is Sunday. I’ll be here at nine. We can all go together. Okay?”

Gracie was going to refuse, but suddenly changed her mind. Her job as Misty’s mother meant she had a duty to check out the church.

“I’ll be ready.”

Dallas couldn’t hide his surprise as he held out a hand, drew her up beside him.

“Thank you,” he said simply.

“You’re welcome.”

He studied her for a long time. Gracie could feel the heat from his hand on hers, the awareness that rippled through her body whenever he touched her.

Attraction hummed between them now, impossible to ignore. Twice as powerful because Misty wasn’t there to buffer it.

“I know why I married you, Gracie,” Dallas whispered, his voice so soft she barely heard it over the thunder.

“You do?” She froze, unable to move when his fingers tangled with hers, when his other hand slipped over her hair, down the nape of her neck and across her shoulder. A sliver of hope crept in, twined around her heart.

He’d remembered something.

“I married you because you’re so full of love.” His hand curved over the very top of her arm. He held it there, squeezed gently, as if to impress her with his words. “It’s tucked away in your heart, waiting to rush out.”

Because she didn’t know how to answer that, Gracie stood very still.

“You’ve been hurt, so you pushed it out of sight. But it’s still there. Waiting.”

She couldn’t say anything when Dallas stared into her eyes like that.

“I envy the man you married, Gracie.”

“But—”

“I envy him because you loved him more than life. He was a fool to leave.” Dallas bent his head, pressed one hard kiss against her lips, then drew back. “Good night.”

He turned, walked to the gate and quietly let himself out. Gracie lifted a hand, touched her mouth.

“Good night,” she whispered.

The man who’d just left wasn’t the man she’d married.

But he was someone her heart recognized.

Dallas loved the little church with its friendly faces and welcoming feeling. He made a note to thank Elizabeth for directing him to it. The building was unpretentious, the piano rudimentary, the congregation small. But that didn’t matter.

He loved sitting in the pew with his wife and daughter, singing praises to the One who was his Lord. Had he done this before? Gone to church with Gracie?

Dallas had no answers. But as the minister preached a Mother’s Day sermon, Dallas soaked in the words. And translated them to fit his personal situation.

God expected him to love the way a real husband, a real father would. Only then could he finally be healed. If Dallas couldn’t make progress in those relationships he would be no better than a friend helping Gracie, a doting uncle to his daughter. The thought chilled him.

Uncles, friends—they were simply onlookers. They visited, shared a few moments, then returned to their own lives. To be needed, to be wanted, to have his daughter see him as an integral part of her life, not a visitor—that was Dallas’s goal. He ached for Gracie to talk to him as if his opinion mattered, as if she valued his input. He wanted to be part of their lives, a part they couldn’t do without.

Too quickly the service came to an end.

“Hi, I’m Mike,” the minister said, shaking their hands at the door. “Is this Misty?”

“Yes. I’m Dallas. And this is Gracie. We’re her parents.”

“Pleased to meet you. I’ve heard all about Misty from Rory.” The minister bent down to her. “I hear you have quite a rapport with horses. Rory said you got a wild one to eat out of your hand.”

Beside Dallas Gracie went rigid. The smile stayed pasted on her face, but he knew she was not pleased.

“Rory an’ me like horses,” Misty said happily. “Dallas is going to teach me to ride.”

Gracie pinned him with a hard glare.

“It was a great sermon.” Dallas struggled to breach the conversation gap.

“Thanks.” Mike handed Gracie a small pot with a daisy. “Happy Mother’s Day, Mrs. Henderson.” He shook her hand. “I was wondering if perhaps Misty would like to join our children’s choir.”

Misty perked up at this, began asking a hundred questions. Satisfied that Rory was a member, she turned to her mother.

“Can I sing in the choir?” she demanded.

“She has quite a good voice,” Dallas murmured, hoping Gracie wouldn’t nix the idea because of him. “We were singing yesterday. Emily lent me her guitar. Misty stayed on key the entire time.”

“I see.” Gracie’s pretty lips tightened. “We’ll talk about it later. Thank you, Reverend.”

“Call me Mike.” He grinned. “We have a ladies’ Bible study starting next week, Mrs. Henderson. In case you’re interested.”

“We’ll see.”

They left the church, Misty swinging between them, chattering excitedly about the choir. Gracie seemed less enthused.

“I thought maybe we could go to Martini’s,” Dallas murmured as they settled in the truck. “For Mother’s Day.”

“Surprise!” Misty squealed from the backseat, wiggling so hard Dallas wondered if the restraint would hold. “I got you a present, too, but you can’t have it yet. Dallas said that’s not part of the plan.”

“The plan. I see.” The way Gracie said it bugged him.

“It’s not a state secret. We wanted to surprise you, that’s all,” Dallas told her.

“You have. By all means, let’s go to Martini’s.”

An inauspicious beginning, but thanks to Misty’s unbridled enthusiasm, the meal turned out better than he’d expected. They stopped by the arboretum after, where Gracie opened her gifts—a collage of tiny foam tiles that Misty had made into a picture, and a silver necklace with a locket from him. Elizabeth had helped there, too.

Gracie enthused over the picture, but only thanked him quietly for the locket. Dallas told himself not to feel hurt, but his heart didn’t listen.

“Look inside,” Misty ordered as she danced across the grass. “It’s a picture of me on the swing. Dallas took it with Elizabeth’s camera. We put it inside.”