His Heart for the Trusting (10 page)

Sara
hesitated.  What mother wanted to hear such horrors?  And yet, to deny what
went on in her life with Dave would have been wrong.

“Never with his
hands,” she replied. 

“But with his
words.”

“Yes,” she
admitted softly.

“Then it's your
heart that needs healing so you can trust again.  So you can begin to love
again.”

Sara chuckled
wryly, and carefully set the dress down over the basket her mother had
retrieved it from.  It was delicate and needed to be handled with the care and
love with which it was made.  There was a time, many years ago, when she
wouldn't have appreciated the beauty of such a dress.  Back then she would have
balked at its meaning. 

“I'm done with
all that mother.”

A quick laugh
came from deep in Alice's throat and escaped her lips.  “I've lived a lot more
years than you, Sara.  The way you look at him.  I can see love when it's
there.”

Her head
snapped up to meet her mother's gaze, her mouth flew agape.  “It's not like
that with Mitch.”

Her mother
offered a wry smirk.  “The heart listens to no one.  Even the sensible mind
that tells it something different.”

She forced
words past the sudden lump lodge deep in her throat.  “I'm not ready to go
through that again.”

“And what was
that?”

Tears that seemed
to come from deep in her soul welled up in her eyes.  “I not ready to talk
about it, either.”

“You're not the
same woman you were before.  Deep down you're the same Sara that left the
reservation, but the woman who has come home is changed.  You're stronger.”

“Yes, I am,”
she said quietly, trying her best to give her mother a smile of reassurance. 
Trying, too, to feel the confidence of making such an achievement.  “But I
still can't talk about it.”

Alice pulled
her daughter into a tight embrace.  “Then you can dance at the Powwow.  When
you're ready to talk, I'm here.”

The day had
both its good points and bad points.  On a somewhat positive side, the school
administration was excited about the prospect of adding a storytelling class to
the curriculum, but encouraged Sara to move beyond Steerage Rock to teach the
Apache history to those Native American children who no longer lived on the
reservation.  It wasn't exactly what she'd thought she’d be doing.  But it made
sense to reach those children who didn't have the benefit of living the culture
firsthand.

Despite good
intentions, Sara's efforts for finding someone who was willing to work as
Jonathan's nanny were futile.  Oh, there had been many interested parties.  But
most involved simply day care arrangements instead of living on the premises,
which of course, she knew Mitch really wanted and needed given the disjointed
hours he worked on the ranch.  He needed someone round the clock, so he could
leave the house on a moment's notice.  Many of the young girls who were
would-be candidates either weren't ready for the responsibility or didn't want
the commitment of something so isolating.

Sara understood
that as much as she understood her own need to find someone to replace her
quickly.  Not only so she could begin her work as a storyteller, but because of
her visit with her mother.  Especially in light of her visit with her mother.

Her heart
needed healing.  That much Sara couldn't deny.  But not so she could move on to
love Mitch.  It just couldn't happen.  And the sooner she found a replacement,
left the Double T, and Mitch's home, the better off they'd all be.

The headlights
of the car bobbed up and down the Double T driveway.  A sense of calm washed
over her to be heading home again.  Home.  Now where had that come from?  The
Double T was not her home.  Her home was on the reservation.

Jonathan
murmured in his sleep and she glanced in the mirror to check on him in the
backseat where he slept in his car seat.

Pulling up in
front of Mitch’s house, she realized this wasn't her home either.  Why on earth
had she thought of that?

He needed to
know the truth.  Deep down, Sara knew Mitch thought of her as his salvation in
a situation that had been thrust upon him.  But she wasn't anyone's salvation,
least of all this baby's.

They'd need to
talk.  And it needed to be soon.

It was time he
learned the real truth about Sara Lightfoot. 

* * *

Sara found
Mitch in the bedroom, folding up old drop cloths that had been spattered with
sky blue paint.  The bedroom smelled thickly of paint and the open window did
little to air it out.

She knocked on
the door when he didn't turn around.

Mitch turned
with a start.  “I didn't hear you drive up.”

“We just got
back.”

“Did you have a
good time?”  He wiped his hands on the thighs of his paint splattered jeans,
and reached for Jonathan. 

“I don't think
it'll take much for him to fall asleep. He didn't have much of a nap since
there were so many kids and so many arms to pass him to at my mother's.” 

Mitch took
Jonathan in his arms and gave him a kiss on his head.  Jonathan shifted and
fussed but Mitch didn't seem uncomfortable with it.  The warmth in his eyes
showed he was genuinely happy that they were home.

“If you don't
mind,” Mitch said, handing the baby back to Sara.  “I'd like to change my
clothes and give him his bottle before putting him down.”

Sara nodded, a
slight tug pulling at her heartstrings.  “Why would I mind?  He’s your son. 
Besides, if you feed him, it'll give me time to unpack things and straighten
up.  I'll get his bottle ready.”

She turned to
leave but then stopped, turning back to Mitch.  “It you're not too tired I'd
like to talk later.”

“Sure,” he
said, his face still holding all the joy at seeing them.  Or rather, seeing his
son.  “I'll meet you downstairs in a little while.”

* * *

Mitch held
Jonathan in his arms for a lingering second before bending his head to give his
son a kiss on his forehead.  The baby smelled clean and sweet with fresh baby
powder.  Sara had sponge bathed Jonathan while Mitch was taking a shower,
scrubbing off all the pale blue paint that had splattered on his hands and his
face while he painted Jonathan's bedroom.

Sara wanted to
talk, she'd said.  That could mean only one thing.  She found a replacement.

Mitch really
didn't want to think about it.  And he certainly didn't want to talk about it. 
He just wanted Sara to stay.  He couldn't imagine another woman in his home. 
But it was looking as if the choice wasn't his to make.

He placed the
baby in his cradle, marveling at how big he'd grown in the short weeks he'd
been here in Texas.  Things had changed so drastically.  Much of it was good
change he hadn’t expected.  He'd gotten used to taking care himself.   He
didn't have many friends but the friends he did have were solid.  Now there
were two more people in his life that he didn’t want to let go.

Yeah, life had
gotten a little complicated with a kid and a woman living with him under the
same roof.  But he had gotten used to it.  It had surprised him today when he
found himself missing both of them as he was painting Jonathan’s bedroom. 

And now Sara
was going to up and leave him.

Mitch took his
time walking down stairs and found Sara sitting in the dimly lit living room.  
He wasn't ready for this conversation.  There was no sense being a coward when
he knew the inevitable was coming.

“I'll bet he's
already asleep,” she said, lifting those incredibly warm brown eyes to meet
his.

She knew
Jonathan so well.  Mitch deposited the nearly empty bottle on the end table and
sat down next to her on the couch.

“He didn't
drain his bottle.  And that's a lot for this little munchkin.”

Sara smiled one
of those sweet smiles that always seem to make his head spin and his heart
thump louder in his chest. 

 “I take it
today went well then?”

“Not as well as
I hoped I'm afraid,” she said with a shrug.  “I did a little digging and
unfortunately I wasn't able to come up with one solid name to give you as a
replacement for me.”

He felt tension
drain from his muscles for the first time since this morning when Sara had
announced she would start looking for a nanny on her own.  The knot in his
shoulders suddenly released.  Leaning back in the sofa, he stretched his arm
out over the back, wanting so much to touch Sara, stroke her smooth as silk
cheek with his fingers, knowing without a doubt he absolutely shouldn't.  It
had been a long day for both of them.  He could see the pull of fatigue in her
dark eyes, yet they were so beautifully sweet all the same.

“I asked my
mother to check with a few more people.”  She shook her head.  “But they're all
so young.  I'm afraid they're just not up to handling how active Jonathan can
be.”

Mitch
chuckled.  “He's just a baby.  He’s not even walking yet.”

“But he will
be.”  Sara chuckled herself.  “And believe me when he does he's not going to
walk.  That child is going to run.”

“He just like
his old man.” 

He knew he
shouldn't do it, but he spoke his mind.  After all, Sara had done plenty of
speaking her mind.  It was one of the things he truly admired about her. 
“Guess you're just going to have to stay then.”

Her laughter
vanished, but Mitch didn't regret revealing what he felt.  He wanted Sara to
stay.  And he wanted her to know exactly how he felt about it.

“I made plans
to start teaching some classes at the elementary school in about a month.  My
mother offered to watch Jonathan if I don't have a replacement by then.”

Mitch sighed,
not bothering to hide his disappointment.  “That's good,” he said.  The last
thing he wanted was to make her feel she had to stay.  Sure, he wanted her to
stay.  But that's because he... because he liked her.  Okay, it was much more
than that.  He could admit it, at least to himself.  These feelings that were
swirling around inside of him, at times making him insane with thinking about
her, had become a major distraction.  A sweet distraction, but a distraction
all the same.

Sara forced a
smile.  “It's a start.  It wasn't exactly what I was hoping for.  But I do
agree with the administration.  Children on the reservation get a certain
amount of the culture just by living their life there.  Even if they balk at
it.  They hear the stories informally from the cradle.  The Native American
children living off the reservation don't ever get exposed to the culture.  Those
are the children I should be trying to reach.  I hadn't really thought about it
until today.  But there is a program I can start at the daycare level a day or
two a week.  And that should keep me busy for a while.”

Mitch refused
to feel hopeful.  The only thing this meant was that Sara wasn't leaving
today.  She was still looking for a replacement for Jonathan.

“I've done a
lot of thinking and looking at myself.  And some of it was hard to see.”

Mitch shook his
head.  “What are you talking about?”

“You asked me
why I came back to Texas.  That's not really as important as why I left in the
first place.  You said you had a pretty good idea of why I left.  But I don't
think you really do.”

“Why don't you
tell me then?”

“I'm only part
Apache.”

“I remember
Alice telling me that.”

“When I was
really young, it didn't make a difference.  I didn't really know much of what I
didn't have outside the reservation.  But as I got older, I began to see other
girls, girls that weren't Native American, I began to get, well, jealous.”

She shifted in
her seat, tucking one foot under the other, and leaned on the armrest as if she
were trying to inch away from him. 

“That makes you
the average American teenager.”

“It was more
than that.  It wasn't just simply wanting at a toy or a dress that some other
girl had.  Those girls were different.  Life on the reservation is so different
from living off it.  And then I met Dave.”

Sara fiddled
with her fingers in her lap and averted her gaze.  “I was only seventeen at the
time.  I'd been coming to the Double T to visit Mandy during the summer while
Mom worked.  But then she stopped coming.”  She shook her head and let out
another sigh.  “I'm ashamed to say that I was actually jealous of Mandy.  She
was—is—a great friend.  She seemed to have all.  She told me all about
Philadelphia and people she knew there and what she and her friends did.  I
didn't have any of that.  I blamed it on being Native American.”

Mitch remained
silent.  There wasn't anything shocking in what she was saying.  Lord, if she
had a taste of his childhood she would know that none of this mattered now. 
All that was important was who she was today.

“Dave was
older.  When I think of it now, I realize that I was truly young and stupid. 
He had gone to college in Dallas, although he'd graduated some years before. 
He'd been out in the workforce for a few years and was now starting to make
some serious money.  He liked spending it on me.”  She gave her shoulder and
idle shrug.  “I liked him spending it on me.” 

Her voice was
so quiet, so small.  She sat on the opposite side of the couch just staring at
him with eyes so wide it almost frightened him.

“He talked
about LA and I would just sit there mesmerized, like he was living one of those
Hollywood movies I’d seen when I was a kid.  A life so glamorous and rich.”

* * *

Sara couldn't
take much more of it.  It was bad enough she had to reveal this to Mitch.  She
owed him that much.  But he hadn't even said a word.  Well, not really.  He
just stared at her, his sympathetic blue eyes wrapping around her, as if he
understood.  And that's what scared her more than anything.

He'd called her
Miss Hollywood once.  He’d thought she hadn’t heard him, but she had.  He saw
her as the very thing she’d wanted to be and abandoned her life to become.