A Cowboy’s Honor (10 page)

“You’re afraid she’ll get hurt like you did. I know. Listen to me, will you?”

Gracie flopped down in her chair, frustrated by his request. Every single time she thought they were getting somewhere, Dallas pushed her too far. But this time she would not budge.

“It’s not me who wants her to ride,” he said. “Well, I do, but I haven’t said anything to her yet.”

“Then?”

“It’s Rory. His mother thinks he’s made so much progress that she’s allowing him to go on the ranch’s upcoming trail ride. Misty found out and now she wants to go, too. But she’s afraid to ask you.”

“Misty’s not afraid to ask me anything.”

“She is this time, Gracie.” His dark eyes rested on her with a measure of sadness. “She told Rory you’re afraid she can’t do it.”

“That isn’t true. I’m concerned she’ll be injured. I would die if that happened.”

“Why do you automatically assume the worst scenario, Gracie?”

The question surprised her, but she shot back an answer. “Because it usually does.”

“Usually?” Dallas shook his head. “I lost my memory and went missing. You had our baby. But you managed, you handled things, and I finally came back.”

“With amnesia,” she amended. “And you forgot what happened with my dad.”

“That was all six years ago. What other bad things have happened that keep you chained by fear?”

She didn’t answer that question, but muttered, “Why am I always the one who has to change? What about you?”

“How do you want me to change?” he asked reasonably.

“You could stop pushing me all the time. My decisions are based on what’s best for Misty.”

“Are they? How does keeping our daughter out of an activity the other children love help her?”

“Don’t ask me anymore, Dallas,” Gracie said softly. “I can’t do it.”

“And when Misty asks you?”

She didn’t get a chance to answer, because Dallas slapped on his Stetson and left. A little while later she heard him talking to someone, and peeked out the window. Lady strutted around the paddock, head tossed back, mane flying as she ran free.

Dallas held no rope. He made no effort to constrain the beautiful animal. Instead he encouraged her, and when Lady finally moved closer, he touched her gently, all the while whispering assurances.

Gracie kept watching, becoming aware that Dallas didn’t need to use words anymore. His actions, his demeanor—they’d convinced the horse that he could be trusted. Lady allowed him to slip on a bridle, danced for a moment, then nudged him with her head while he fastened the girth.

Soon Dallas was seated on Lady and she was walking around the paddock, obeying the touch of his hands on her flanks.

“I’m trying to trust you,” Gracie murmured. “But…”

But.
That was the whole problem in one word.

And for the life of her Gracie couldn’t get past it.

“I’m not going to sing in the choir tomorrow mornsing, Mommy.”

“Are you sick?” Gracie touched the smooth forehead, felt a cheek. “You don’t feel hot. Is your tummy upset?”

“No.”

Dallas watched mother and daughter soundlessly. He’d been afraid of this. He walked over to his daughter, knelt in front of her.

“What’s wrong, Miss?”

“I can’t sing in the choir.”

“Why not? You sing beautifully. Miss Craft said you know all the words.”

“That’s not why.” Misty stamped her toe on the floor.

“So what’s the problem?”

“We have to go up steps. What if I miss one and fall down?”

“Then you get up.”

“Everybody will laugh at me.”

Gracie shot him a questioning look. “Have the other kids at church been laughing at you, Misty?” she asked.

“Nobody teased me.”

Dallas lifted her in his arms, carried her to the love seat and sat down with her on his knee. “Why don’t you tell me what’s wrong, Miss?” he coaxed gently.

“I’m scared.” She tucked her head against his neck, nuzzled closer.

“Of falling off the step?”

“Sort of.”

“What else?” He watched Gracie sink down opposite them, listening intently.

“It’s s’posed to be a surprise,” Misty whispered.

“I think it’s okay if you tell me this one time.” He covered her little hand with his, marveling at the daintiness of Misty’s hand.

“I’m s’posed to sing a solo. You know, for Father’s Day. Rory says that when I start, my voice gets all creaky and I sound like a stuck pig. I don’t even know what a stuck pig sounds like.”

“Neither does Rory.” Dallas battled an urge to box little Rory’s ears next time he saw him.

“Well, I don’t think it’s a nice sound. I don’t want to squeal.”

“I think you’ll sound like a beautiful bird. I would be a very proud father to hear you sing in church tomorrow.”

Misty wasn’t convinced. “What if I forget that really high note?”

“What if you do? What’s the most terrible thing that can happen?” He tickled her under the chin. “Will sharks eat you when you get in the pool? Will robbers come and take your piggy bank? What are you scared of?”

“People will laugh at me,” Misty whispered. “Sometimes they do, you know. Mommy doesn’t like it. She always makes us hurry away.”

Dallas heard Gracie catch her breath, saw her blink back tears. But he couldn’t comfort her now. Misty needed him to be strong.

“What else?”

“Mommy always tells me to be careful, and I try to be, but…”

“What, Miss?”

“I get afraid sometimes, Daddy.”

Daddy.
The word punched him in the stomach, sucked all his breath away.

Oh, what a Father’s Day gift.
Thank You, Father of all.

“Listen to me, my most darling Misty. We all get afraid sometimes.”

“Not you.”

“Are you kidding me? I’m afraid lots.”

“Really?”

He couldn’t make this up. Misty was too smart for that. So he spoke from his heart. “I’m afraid when I wake up every morning.”

“You are? Why?” she asked, obviously shocked by his admission.

“I’m afraid because you might be gone away, and I won’t get to tell you I love you, and that I’m very glad I’m your daddy.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” Misty assured him. “I like the ranch. What else?”

“Sometimes I get afraid I won’t ever remember my past.”

“Why does that make you scared?”

“You can remember stuff about when you were little, can’t you, Miss?”

“Sure.” She fiddled with his shirt button.

“I can’t. I can’t remember my mom kissing me good-night or my dad showing me how to ride a bike, or where I lived or if I had any sisters and brothers. I can’t remember any of that, and it makes me feel like I’m all alone. That’s when I get scared.”

“So what do you do?”

“I pray. I ask God to help me. Then I get up and get going. God doesn’t want me to be afraid, He wants me to ask Him to help me, and He wants me to keep being Dallas.”

“Being Daddy,” she corrected absently. “Do you think if I prayed God would help me?”

“I’m sure of it.” Dallas clasped her hands in his, bowed his head and prayed out loud for his little girl to put her faith in God. “Does that help?”

“Yes. But I still don’t think that I’ll sing.”

“You’re the only one who can decide. If it scares you too much, then don’t.” Was it wrong to challenge a child?

Misty frowned. “Will you read me a story, Daddy?”

“Sure.” He didn’t care that he wasn’t proficient at braille. Dallas intended to read to his daughter, to tuck her in, kiss her good-night. It was the least a real daddy could do.

When he came out of Misty’s room an hour later, Gracie was in the pool, cleaving through the water with great purpose and strength. He debated going to her, but something inside told him to leave.

So he headed toward Lady’s stall, led her into one of the rings.

And the entire time he worked with her he pleaded with God to help his wife and his daughter.

“And me,” he begged as the moon rose high and round. “Please, please, heal me. I love them. I need them. Isn’t that why You brought me here?”

But though he waited long past midnight, no memory returned.

G
racie was up before the sun on Sunday morning.

She’d never gone to bed.

Tortured by Misty’s lack of confidence, she wondered how much she’d damaged her child’s self-assurance.

She thought of Dallas and how willing he’d been to reveal his own weakness in order to help Misty understand that everyone struggled to remain confident. How easily he’d taught her to turn to God for love and support.

Something Gracie should have done long ago.

Dallas’s love was selfless. It freed Misty to grow and learn and become the child God wanted her to be. Dallas strengthened Misty with his love, while Gracie’s imprisoned her child and made her feel helpless.

Gracie had spent the night praying to make the right decision. Now, as the sun’s golden rays flooded her small patio, flickered across the onion skin pages of her Bible, she knew what she had to do. Dallas had shown her.

To make this family strong Gracie had to step back and allow Misty the opportunity to experience everything the ranch offered.

Everything.

“Mommy?” Misty stood at the door, tousled, her nightgown rumpled.

“Hi, sweetie.” Gracie waited, relishing the moment when her daughter climbed into her lap and snuggled against her. “Did you have a good sleep?”

“Yes.” Misty’s fingers curled into her shirt.

“I’ll have to go shower and change soon. Get ready for church. But I thought I’d sit here and watch the sun rise first. Do you want to watch, too?”

It was a secret code between them, which meant Gracie would describe the event in terms Misty could understand.

“Okay.” The child lay still, listening carefully.

“Now the sun’s like a big ball climbing up, up. It’s almost over the hill. It’s got a thousand arms all around it, reaching out. Can you feel the heat in its arms?”

“Yes.” Misty tipped her chin up as the brilliant rays splashed her face. “I can feel it.”

“That’s your first sunrise, young lady.”

“Oh.” Misty considered that. “There are lots of firsts, aren’t there, Mommy.”

“Many many more for you, my sweet.” She kissed her head.

“Some might be bad firsts.”

“They might. But you’re a Henderson, Misty. Henderson women are strong. We can stand a few bad times. It makes us stronger.”

“I’m not a woman.” Misty giggled. “I’m just a girl.”

“A very smart, brave girl who is learning each day to do new things. I’m proud of you, honey.”

“I didn’t do nothing special. Not like Rory. He’s learning to ride the horses.”

“Is riding something you’d like to do, Misty?” Gracie asked quietly.

Her daughter tipped her head to one side. “I don’t know. Horses are big.”

“Some are. But most are very gentle creatures if you understand how to treat them. They know exactly how to step so they don’t pinch my toes when I check them, for example.”

“Daddy said horses understand human people so much they know how to help them sometimes.”

“Yes.” Hearing Misty call Dallas “Daddy” was so bittersweet that Gracie’s heart squeezed each time she heard her say it. Daddy. Mommy. Family.

Misty remained silent for a long time. When she finally spoke, her voice was soft, hesitant. “Do you think I could learn to ride a horse, Mommy?”

“Of course you could learn.” Gracie forced away the fear by sending a prayer Heavenward. “If you really wanted to.”

“Enough to go on the trail ride?”

“Hmm. That’s a big one. I don’t know. What do you think?”

“Rory said it takes two whole hours and you don’t get off the horse once. That’s a long time.”

“It is if you don’t practice.” Gracie squeezed her eyes closed. “I think it’s like singing, Misty. The more you do it, the better you get.”

“I heard you tell Daddy you fell off a horse when you were a little girl.” Misty’s voice shrank with each word. “You said you didn’t ride after that. You sounded scared.”

“Did I? Well, I was only three then. You’re five.” Gracie caught her breath. “Do you think I should learn to ride, Misty?”

“I don’t know. Do you think I should sing in the choir today?” Her face was scrunched in confusion. “Maybe I’ll mess it all up.”

Gracie smoothed the bright curls, prayed for the right words. “Yes, maybe you will.”

Misty frowned, as if she hadn’t expected that.

“How would you feel if that happened, sweetie?”

“Dumb. But Daddy wouldn’t care. And he’s the one I’ll be singing to. Because daddies like it when their kids do stuff. That’s what Miss Craft said.”

“Miss Craft is absolutely right.”

“Now I don’t know what to do,” Misty complained.

“It is hard to decide, isn’t it? I mean, if you make a mistake with the song and the kids laugh, that wouldn’t be fun. But Dal—Daddy wouldn’t care about a mistake. So I guess you have to decide which would be worse, not to sing to Daddy on Father’s Day, and disappoint him, or sing and maybe make a mistake and risk the other kids laughing.”

Misty frowned. “That’s hard to decide.”

“Yes. But think about this. Maybe if you decided to sing—I’m not saying you have to, but if you did—maybe it would help you know if you are strong enough to learn to ride.”

“Like a test? Like swimming?” she asked. “First I had to try to float, and when I did that, I learned to kick my feet, and that helped me think I could move my arms, too. And then I was swimming. Like that?”

“Exactly like that, darling.”

“’Cept I already know how to sing.” Misty slid out of Gracie’s lap, stood on the sun-warmed cement in her bare feet. “Do you think Daddy could show me the steps at church before it starts?”

“Well, you could ask him when he comes. Of course, you’d have to get dressed soon. We’d need to leave early.”

“I’m always early,” Misty informed her. “You’re the one who’s usually late because of your head-bed. Daddy says we can’t let you go to church like that.”

“Bed head,” Gracie corrected automatically. “And he’s
usually
teasing, though it might need a little help today. It smells like chlorine.”

“Well, fix it, Mommy. I don’t want to be late.”

Her command issued, Misty hurried into the house and began hauling out her favorite cereal and milk. A moment later the refrain of her choir song floated out from the CD player, accompanied by Misty’s sweet voice.

“Very well done, Mommy.”

Dallas’s low growl penetrated her thoughts. Gracie turned and saw him standing on the other side of the fence, dressed in his casual clothes, watching her. Approval glowed in his dark eyes, causing Gracie’s pulse to flutter.

“That was a very big step.”

“You heard.”

“I didn’t mean to. I was passing and almost called out, but I didn’t want to disturb you. Are you all right?”

“I don’t know,” Gracie answered honestly, keeping her voice low as she rose and moved toward the fence. Lately the only private time she and Dallas had outside of work was the hour Misty was at choir practice, and she was beginning to realize it wasn’t enough. She wanted more uninterrupted time with him to explore the relationship they were slowly rebuilding.

“I’m still scared for her.”

“That’s natural.”

“I’m still not sure it was a good idea, but I’m trying to trust.”

“That’s the first step of faith, Gracie. And I know how you feel. I wake up with that same inner doubt every morning. And then I ask God to be with me.”

“And that makes it better?”

“Not always.” Dallas reached across the fence, tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear. “You didn’t sleep?”

“No.” She leaned into his touch, trying to remember if she’d ever felt like this when they’d been together. She didn’t think so.

Love had been a novelty then, something she’d basked in, but usually felt too shy to display. Now she could hardly wait to touch Dallas, to feel his arm circling her waist or hugging her close. Uncertainty about how things would turn out couldn’t stop her from relishing his nearness, reveling in the contact she craved.

She closed her eyes, savoring the moment as she covered his hand with hers.

“Oh, Gracie.”

She almost didn’t hear the broken whisper. He lifted her palm to his mouth and pressed a kiss in the center before curling her fingers around it.

“Why did you do that?”

“Because sometimes I need to touch you.”

His stark answer blazed a path straight to her heart. She needed him, too. Needed to lean on his strength for a while, let him take control. Needed to share things with him, laugh with him, cry with him. She needed Dallas to help build the family she longed for.

“Why are you up so early?” she asked, noting a change in his demeanor.

“Elizabeth woke me. She had a call from my parents. I went on her computer, saw them, thanks to her Web camera. We talked for a bit.”

Gracie froze, her breath strangled by fear’s tentacles.

“My mom had a bit of a medical setback on the way to Canberra. They’re clearing that up before they travel here. Nothing serious, apparently, but it’s going to take more time before we’re reunited.”

“I’m sorry.”

It was an automatic response, tinged by relief that for a little longer Misty and Dallas would be hers alone.

“It’s okay.” Disappointment sagged his broad shoulders. “I didn’t recognize them, you know.” The light in his eyes vanished. “I’m not sure why I thought I would.”

She ached to gather him close, ease his hurt. But the fence and fear separated them.

“Maybe when you see them in person things will be different.”

“Yeah. Maybe.” He shook off the gloom, leaned over the fence and brushed her lips with his. “I’d better get going. See you in a bit, Gracie, love.”

“Yes. See you.”

As she watched him walk away, the verse Gracie had read over and over through the predawn hours returned with startling clarity.

“I am leaving you with a gift—peace of mind and heart. And the peace I give isn’t fragile like the peace the world gives. So don’t be troubled or afraid.”

“I will not be afraid,” she whispered. “Help me not be afraid.”

“Mommy! Aren’t you coming?”

“Yes, darling. I’m on my way.”

Gracie retrieved her Bible and her coffee cup and walked into the house with new purpose. She couldn’t handle the fear on her own.

But she didn’t have to.

God would help. All she had to do was trust Him.

He thought his chest would burst with pride.

Misty’s pure, clear voice carried around the church like a bell as she sang about a father’s love.

They’d talked about how to combat her nervousness. “You sing right to me, Miss. Forget everybody else. Okay?”

“Yes, Daddy.”

Gracie’s slim hand slid into his and squeezed tightly as Misty soared through her final notes. The congregation sighed. Then the choir chimed in and the cantata proceeded. There were four soloists in all, but their daughter was the best. And when the service was finally dismissed, Dallas couldn’t help basking in the congratulations everyone offered.

“I’m her father,” he told an old woman who was chatting with Misty.

“You’re a very fortunate man, then.”

“Yes, I am.” He lifted Misty into his arms and hugged her so tightly she protested. “You were great, Miss.”

“Did you like your song, Daddy?”

“I loved it. I wish I’d thought to borrow a video camera and record it.”

“Miss Craft had someone record the cantata. We can buy a copy from her.” Gracie brushed a smudge of dust from Misty’s face. “It was really lovely, honey.”

She wiggled, wanting to be put down. Dallas let her go, winced at the emptiness of his arms.

“It was a good test, Mommy,” the little girl said, her smile wide. “Now I know what I want to do.”

“What’s that?”

“I want to learn how to ride a horse. I want to go on the trail ride.”

Dallas watched the color leach from Gracie’s beautiful face. But she smiled as she said, “That’s good, sweetie.”

He slid an arm around her waist, squeezed to show his support.

“I’m starving,” he said. “How about if I take my girls to lunch? A celebration for Misty’s new singing career.”

“No!” Misty glanced at her mother for guidance.

“I think we should go back to our place,” Gracie murmured.

“Okay.” Dallas sensed some secret message passing between the two. “Let’s go.”

As Gracie drove them back to the ranch, he watched her. She answered Misty’s never-ending questions absently, her attention obviously elsewhere.

“I think it’s time I saw somebody about getting my license back,” he said as he held out a hand to help Gracie from the truck. Misty had already scurried inside. “Thanks to the sheriff and Elizabeth and all the paperwork we filled out I’ve got my identity back, but apparently I have to retake the driving test.”

“Do you remember driving?” Gracie asked as they walked toward the open front door.

“No.” But suddenly he did. A sports car, with the top down. Gracie was laughing beside him, her hair streaming in the wind as she held up one hand. A gold circlet glittered on her ring finger.

“Dallas?”

“Yeah?” He shook his head. She was holding the door, waiting for him. “Did I used to own a red sports car?”

“You rented one once.”

Gracie moved to the kitchen. Her tone didn’t invite more questions, but he couldn’t let it go. “Was it around the time we were married?”

She paused, twisted to look at him. “Yes.”

“I had this flash of it. We were riding in the car. You were holding your hand up. You wore a gold band.” He stared at her bare finger.

“My wedding ring,” she said, so quietly he had to lean close to hear. “I took it off a couple of years ago. I didn’t think you were coming back.”

Shouldn’t she have come looking for him once more, before she gave up?

“Surprise! Happy Father’s Day, Daddy.”

Only then did Dallas realize that Misty, with Gracie’s help, had made special plans to celebrate his day. If his heart had been full before it almost burst now as she pulled open the patio door, indicating the table outside, fully set.

“It looks beautiful.” He mouthed a thank-you to Gracie over Misty’s head as he hugged his child. “Did you do all this?”