The Maverick Meets His Match (21 page)

Ty nodded. No doubt Trace did need money. Ty would guess his brother was barely eking out a living. Selling the small, by Wyoming standards, ranch in this economy probably wouldn’t even pay off the mortgage. “How much?”

“She needs to be in preschool. She’s bright, but she’s had it tough. Her mother, well, she was an addict…”

“What kind of addict?” And dear God let it not be heroin.

“Cocaine, pills. She was sent to prison for dealing. She got fifteen years.”

The state was hard on drug dealers, but fifteen years meant it was a whole lot of dope.

“Preschool should be doable, Trace. But you didn’t ask me here to lend you money for preschool.”

Trace shook his head as his hands dug into the worn pockets of his jeans. “This ain’t easy, Ty.”

He felt a stab of sympathy. Trace had always had enough pride to fill a 120-foot water tower. “I expect it’s not. But we do what we have to do. You’ve got a child to take care of. I’ve got a niece to protect. She’s a Martin, and we need to do right by her. Both of us. Tell me what you need.”

“I guess you think I should sell the ranch. Move into town.”

There it was. “A different time, maybe. But truthfully, you wouldn’t get much for it now. Developers don’t have the money to pick up new projects on this small amount of acreage. Could change in a few years. But not now.” Besides, what would Trace do in town? The best he could hope for was to hire on with another ranch,
if
another was hiring, and wages wouldn’t be much better, probably, than what he could scratch out here.

A spark of hope jumped into his brother’s eyes.

“Just get it out, Trace. It will be painful, but you’ll live.”

“I need a loan.” Trace named a five-figure amount. “I need to build back the herd after the drought last year. I need to hire a housekeeper to mind Delanie when she’s not in school and I’m out on the range. I need to get her into the preschool in town so she’s ready for kindergarten next year. And I need a lawyer who can assure that I can keep her. Now and, God forbid, if her mother ever gets paroled.” His eyes turned flinty. “I’m not giving her back. She’s been damaged enough.”

“I can loan the money, Trace. That’s never been the issue. You cleaning up your act, which it appears you’ve done, has been the issue. As well as recognizing I’m not the enemy just because I’ve had opportunities to better myself and took them.”

Trace scowled. “No matter that you think you're better than those of us who work with our hands to make a living.”

“Spin it however it makes you feel better, brother.” Ty wouldn’t take the bait. Not this time. Not with a child at risk. “But tell me about Delanie and this damage stuff. How has she been damaged?”

Trace closed his eyes and then opened them as if the hurt cut deep. “She doesn’t trust anyone, doesn’t trust me. She says her mommy told her not to let a man touch her because they’ll do bad things and that she’s not supposed to take anything from anyone and she’s never to go anywhere with a man. It’s been a hell of a few weeks.”

Trace had a haunted look as he spoke.

“The mother was probably trying to protect her from the creeps she hung around with.”

“Thing is…I don’t know if it worked. And that’s killing me just as much as Delanie’s distrust of me.” Trace shook his head. “I need to get her some help…and learn how to deal with this. If I’d known, I’d have sued for custody from the start.”

Except four years ago, Trace might not have been able to make his case. He’d never gotten in serious trouble with the law, but he had hung around with guys who had. He’d been an alcoholic, so bad he had to go through rehab. How much drugs had been part of it, Ty never knew. People may not think drugs made it into ranch country, but no community was immune. Trace had darn near bankrupted the farm during that phase of his life, hence the mortgage. Ty’s interference then hadn’t been welcomed, but it had been necessary. And Trace resented it to this day and probably forever. The fact he was actually asking for Ty’s help now was a testament to how much he was committed to making a good life for Delanie. And Ty had to admire him for swallowing some of that Martin pride for the girl’s sake.

“It will take me a few weeks to liquidate some things, but I can set up an account for you to draw on. I can also arrange for a good family-court lawyer for you. I know one of the state judges for that court. And he should be able to direct me to a professional who deals with this sort of thing.”

Trace nodded.

It wasn’t much in the way of thanks, but then Ty didn’t really expect any.

When Ty stepped into the living room, there was Mandy, sitting cross-legged on the floor, providing the voice for the doll she held in her hand. Little Delanie, standing, was telling the baby doll that it was bed time and she mustn’t sleep in anyone else’s bed.

A shudder went through him. What the hell had his niece had to endure these last four years as a child of a drug addict? He didn’t want to imagine.

“Hey, ladies,” Ty said, bending down on his haunches so he was eye level with them both. “What a pretty baby you have, Miss Delanie.”

“Thank you. But you mustn’t touch her. She’s afraid of you.”

Ty felt his heart squeeze. He shot a look at Mandy. Questions filled her eyes. Questions to which he didn’t have the answers. “Is she now? Well, she’s not afraid of her uncle, is she?”

She looked so cute and innocent as she stood with her head to the side, thinking. “What’s an uncle?”

“An uncle is someone who is related to you, a brother to your daddy. And someone who protects you from harm, just like a daddy does.”

“Daddies protect you?”

“Yes, darling, they do. Does your baby have a daddy?”

She shook her head. “But maybe someday we’ll find one for her and visit him.”

“Then he’ll protect her. And she won’t have to be afraid of anyone or anything.”

He sensed rather than saw Trace enter the room as Delanie shifted her line of sight.

“You have a daddy, Delanie, don’t you?” he continued.

She nodded a solemn nod.

“Your daddy is my brother. That makes me your uncle. All three of us are family.” Then he remembered Mandy. “And Mandy is my wife, so she’s your aunt, and that makes her family too. And aunts and uncles and daddies, they all look out for the children in the family. You’re the only child in our family.” She looked so vulnerable as she glanced from Ty’s face to Mandy’s face up to Trace’s face as if she was silently questioning the truth of that statement.

“And my mommy. She looks out for me too, right?”

God, he hoped so.

“Yes, when she’s here. But when she’s not, your daddy looks out for you. That’s how it works.” That’s how it had worked, however imperfectly, in his life too. “When your daddy was a lot bigger than you, he lost his mother. And his father had to take care of him.”

“Really, Daddy?” she looked up, hope overflowing in her eyes, but it didn’t quite hide the wariness that also resided there.

“Yes, Delanie.”

“But baby doesn’t have a daddy. Just me, her mommy. So I’ll be looking out for her.”

“Why don’t you go wash up, Delanie? And we’ll have something to eat with your uncle Ty and aunt Mandy.” Trace stepped forward, careful not to crowd his daughter. It must be hell, walking on eggshells. “You two will stay for a little bite? One of the neighbors sent over a lasagna. She’s been helping me out when she can.”

“That okay with you, Mandy?” Ty asked. He hadn’t planned on staying long. He was tired and was sure she was, but Trace sounded uncharacteristically needy for some company. He imagined his brother must feel at sea with all this. But at least he was stepping up and doing what was right, what he had to do for his little girl.

Mandy nodded.

“Can baby eat with us, Daddy?” Delanie asked.

“Sure, honey.”

“And Buddy?” She nodded at the stuffed dog in her arm.

“As always.” Trace sounded almost jovial.

“Okay. I’ll take baby, and we’ll all wash up.” Delanie held out one arm to receive the doll from Mandy and then toddled off toward the bathroom, Buddy in the crook of one arm, the baby doll in the other.

“Shall I go and help her?” Mandy said, rising.

Trace shook his head. “No need. She’s an independent sort. I guess she’s used to fending for herself.”

Ty felt a sudden sadness at that. Robbed of some of her childhood, it seemed. Maybe now she’d have a chance to get it back. Ty would certainly do his part.

Mandy brushed her hands down her jeans, dusting herself off. Watching her simple movements, it struck him like a hammer strikes a nail. She was standing in his house, the house he grew up in. And she didn’t look out of place, even though he felt like an alien after all this time.

She raised her head, her expression quizzical. He had a lot to tell her, for sure. Perhaps sensing now was not the time to ask questions, she turned toward Trace.

“Can I help in the kitchen then? Set the table or something?”

“That would be fine, Mandy,” Trace said. “Sorry to hear about your grandfather. And sorry I didn’t get a chance to say welcome to the family.”

With an acknowledging nod, Mandy followed Trace into the kitchen.

He liked that about Mandy. She was always ready to pitch in. She didn’t shirk work or responsibility or just plain helping out. And seeing her playing down on the floor with Delanie brought a whole new dimension to her many facets.

She’d make some guy a wonderful wife.

“I’m almost afraid to know, but what is Delanie’s story?” Mandy asked as the car sped down the road away from Ty’s boyhood home.

Ty let go a sigh. He was drained. Seeing his brother after all these years had felt more like a confrontation than a visit. And he didn’t kid himself that anything had changed between the two of them. Their issues ran deep, starting with the circumstances surrounding the death of their mother right through the loan Ty would be providing and included a few detours down Trace’s alcoholic alleys. And now there was Delaine added to the mix. He wasn’t going to allow his brother, however, to shut him out of his niece’s life. Ty had never been around kids much, but something about that little girl tugged at him.

“I don’t know the details. Neither does Trace, which is eating at him. But I’ll tell you what I do know.” Ty proceeded to fill Mandy in on the convicted drug-addict mother, Delanie’s obvious distrust of men, even Trace’s bout with alcoholism. He skipped over the part where he had found his brother passed out in a back alley after learning Trace had mortgaged the ranch to fund his recklessness, and proceeded to beat the crap out of him. As well as the fact that he had thrown his brother into rehab with the threat of turning him over to the authorities if he didn’t shape up. Ty had stepped in to cosign so the ranch wouldn’t be lost to creditors. The worst investment he’d ever made in terms of payback, but then he didn’t do it for a return on his investment. Fact was, he didn’t know quite why he had done it. Maybe Delanie would prove the real return.

“At least Trace is being honest with Delanie about her mother. He’s told the child that her mother has broken some rules and she has to go someplace to relearn them so she can do better when she gets out. I hope Delanie gives him a chance, because even if that woman gets out before her fifteen years is up, Trace isn’t going to give up his daughter to her. Not now that he knows he has one.”

“She’s a sweet child, Ty. But chatty one minute and so somber the next. Like she’s swaying between being a child and an adult. Can we help her, help them both? The ranch doesn’t seem all that prosperous.”

A quick glance at her showed tears welling in her pretty green eyes. She’d said can
we
help
.
That surprised him.

“He’s asked for help. I’m giving it. I know his asking wasn’t easy.”

“You’re not close?”

“That’s an understatement.” Ty shifted gears. His relationship with Trace wasn’t something he wanted to talk about. It was too complicated. Hell, he didn’t even understand it.

“Well, maybe we can have them over or something. Or we could give him a break and take Delanie with us to a rodeo.” Ty could see the wheels in her mind turning.

“Given her trust issues, I don’t know if taking her away would be the right thing, but we’ll stay involved.” He turned to her. “I appreciate your support in this, Mandy. Given our situation, can’t say I expected you to care much about Trace or Delanie.”

“Of course I care. Trace may be a little taciturn, like you—”

“I am nothing like my brother.” Ty was surprised at how much he rebelled against that idea.

“Oh, on the contrary. I see a lot of similarities. You both are lone wolves, for one. Neither of you exactly wears your heart on your sleeve. And despite your tough facade, you both are putty in that little girl’s hand. I have to say I was pleasantly surprised at how well you handled that whole ‘daddies look out for their children’ theme.”

“Not that I made any progress.”

Her smile glowed in the half light. “You never know with kids. It may take some time, but I think you planted a really strong seed in her mind. She was definitely thinking on it. And she seemed pretty relaxed with Trace at dinner. It was kind of cute to see this big cowboy cutting up her meat, fetching her milk. She let him dab her face with the napkin.”

“He did look kind of comfortable in father mode. Like he was actually enjoying it.” Ty had been amazed at the smiles that little girl could pull from his brother.

“So did you.”

After a few miles of silence, Mandy had given in to exhaustion and slept the rest of the way back to the hotel. Now, as she stood in the hotel room fresh from her shower, clothed in an oversized T-shirt and facing a bare-chested, jean-clad Ty, who had stretched out on the king-sized bed, she felt a tug of desire and an overwhelming need for closeness. Resisting him these last days had required mental discipline and physical restraint.

Here she was only a week in and her resolve was waning. What did that say about her character?

What it said was that her grandfather had purposely rigged the outcome by making them cohabitate in the same bedroom. It was easier, though still hard enough, when they had separate beds. But here she was, in a hotel room with that gigantic king bed containing a lounging
Playgirl
fantasy man.