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Authors: Lois Richer

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BOOK: A Cowboy’s Honor
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He hesitated. “I—I’m not sure what to do.”

“Neither am I.” Gracie couldn’t ignore the plea for help he hadn’t uttered. It hurt to see strong, confident Dallas so uncertain. She couldn’t find it within her to let it last. “The worst she can do is knock you down. Go ahead.”

He searched her face for a moment, finally nodded. “Okay, but if I mess up you’d better know how to do first aid.”

“You won’t need first aid. I have something that works better.” She pulled a sugar lump from her pocket and handed it and the carrot to him. “I want to know if those sores on her sides are healing or if there’s a sign of infection. If you can get her to stand facing me, as close as possible, I’ll be able to get a good look.”

He nodded, tucked the treats in his back pocket, then walked toward the suspicious horse, talking the entire time. Gracie couldn’t hear all the words, but she recognized the soft conversational tone. Ears pricked up, Lady stood her ground, waiting while he moved closer. Eventually the mare caught the scent of the carrot, and though she snorted, she didn’t shy away.

Dallas pulled the carrot from his pocket, broke off the end and held it out on his palm. Lady tossed her head, then reached out and snatched it from him. Dallas eased the remaining carrot back in his pocket and turned, began walking toward Gracie.

That wasn’t what she wanted, and she opened her mouth to tell him so, until she caught a glimpse of his eyes and the message they were sending.
Trust me.

It had been a long time since Gracie had really trusted anyone. But in that moment she couldn’t forget the many times he’d said it to her during their weeks of long-distance courtship, each time he left, when he spoke about the future.

“Trust me, Gracie darlin’. We’re going to have a future. It’s just gonna take a while for us to get everything ironed out. But we will have a home of our own, a family. Trust me.”

Gracie snapped out of her reverie at the sound of the horse’s deep-throated gargle. She blinked, saw Lady butt Dallas in the back. The mare soon accepted his hand on her head, allowed him to touch her nose.

“Yeah, you’re a little mixed up, aren’t you? Just like me,” he whispered.

Gracie focused on his face, on the tenderness blazing in his eyes.

“But we can get through it, girl.” Dallas threaded his fingers through Lady’s mane, but it was his voice that commanded the horse, not his hands. “We have to trust each other. You can let me in, can’t you, Lady?”

Dallas led the horse nearer and turned her. “If you want to take a look, Gracie, this is as good a time as any.”

“Keep talking and hold her as still as you can.” Gracie moved slowly, checking the hooves as gently as she could. She went on to assess the long deep cuts a whip had made on the horse’s ribs.

“Come on, girl. You’re on show. You can do it.” Dallas slipped her another morsel of carrot, and continued speaking. The mare calmed enough to allow him to scratch her ears.

“Okay, I’ve seen enough. I think she’ll do. For now.” Gracie walked back to the fence, let herself out and waited for him to follow.

But Dallas stayed with the horse, kept talking to her, handling her with light gentle touches that she tolerated a little easier each time.

Gracie couldn’t look away from Dallas’s face. He’d totally transformed from a pitiable amnesiac to a skilled rancher. No longer did he move hesitantly. Now he was in control, calm, his movements precise. He didn’t jump back when Lady bumped his arm away from the sores under her neck, didn’t fuss when she bared her teeth after he rubbed his hand down her forelock. He simply kept talking, winning her trust with soft words, gentle hands and an air of determination.

This was the real Dallas. It didn’t matter whether he remembered or not. His skill, his gentleness…Gracie’s eyes brimmed with tears as she remembered how he’d done the same with her, coaxed her into sharing her deepest desires, her biggest fears.

Dallas would work his magic on Misty, too. Gracie knew that as surely as she knew the sun would set. He was already more than halfway to winning the little girl’s heart.

A gasp of awe drew her attention back to Dallas. A small crowd of children had gathered round to watch. He was now seated on Lady’s back, bent forward over her neck so he could talk to her. She danced for a moment or two at the burden, then settled into a nervous trot. They went round and round in a circle until she was perfectly at ease. Only then did he slip from her back, pat her and offer the sugar lump.

By the time he left the paddock, the sighted kids were clapping. Misty clapped harder than all of them as Emily described the scene to her.

“That’s my dad,” Gracie heard her boast.

Dallas grinned at Gracie, bowed to the kids.

“Show-off,” she chided, half in earnest.

“Sourpuss,” he called back. When she didn’t return his smile, Dallas faltered, frowned. “You didn’t really mind, did you? I was just trying to help.”

“I know.” She turned, walked back to the barn.

Dallas was just trying to help with Misty, too. The question was, could he help himself to withstand his parents when they showed up here, demanding he take his place in the family business? And when they asked him to bring his daughter with him?

Gracie couldn’t envision a worse scenario.

Chapter Four

“I
can’t talk about our past right now.”

“Or last week, or last night. Why is that, Gracie?” Dallas shifted restlessly, frustrated by the roadblocks his wife kept putting up whenever he asked about their marriage.

“I have to prepare dinner for Misty. See you tomorrow.”

Gracie hurried up the lane to her house, her back stiff with fear. If he let her, she’d push him so far away he’d never find his place in her life.

That was not going to happen.

Dallas was scared, too. He had no idea what he’d done in the past, how he’d treated her. But he’d promised God he’d do his utmost to build a relationship with his family. One week had only whetted his appetite to be with them more.

Dallas wanted, needed his wife back. But he had no memories to guide him. In the shadows of his mind a slew of questions grew. Maybe Gracie hadn’t found him because she no longer wanted him in her life. Maybe that’s why she wouldn’t let him past the barriers she’d erected. Maybe, maybe, maybe. Every day was a balancing act as Dallas tried to rebuild his life.

He picked up his pace, followed his wife’s model-slim jeans-clad figure through the front gate. “I could make dinner, Gracie.” He grinned, feeling sheepish. “If you’ll let me use your kitchen, that is.”

“You?”

His impetuous offer had come with little forethought. Now Dallas wondered if he knew how to cook. Somehow that issue had not come up before.

No going back,
he reminded himself.

“Yes, me,” he agreed. “And Misty. I’ll pick her up and we’ll put our heads together while you take a break and relax. How does that sound?”

“Actually, wonderful. I never realized how demanding this job would be. The animals are terrific therapy for the children, but taking care of them is exhausting. Thanks for watching Misty last night while I stayed with that mare.”

“My pleasure.” If Gracie only knew how watching Misty’s pink-flushed face as she slept reinforced his determination to regain his memory. “So the job’s not what you were expecting?”

She tilted her head to one side, rubbed her neck. “I knew there’d be horses. The kids adore Clara the donkey and she’s a sweetie. But the goat and the rest—it’s a lot for one vet. Those tracks the wranglers saw on the crest of the hill yesterday aren’t helping things, either.”

“Why does that matter?”

Gracie turned to peer out the window at the hill. “I don’t want any of the children endangered because a wild animal is tracking a sickly animal we have here.”

She was worn-out with her worrying. Dallas saw it in her eyes and the tiny fan of lines around them, in the pinch of her lovely lips.

“Elizabeth has a lot of safeguards to stop that from happening.”

An image fluttered through his mind. Of him standing behind her, massaging her shoulders, smoothing back her hair, whispering something that brought that gorgeous smile to her lips. As quickly as it appeared, the memory vanished, leaving him frustrated, aching to help but unsure how.

If only he could draw Gracie into his arms and smooth away the lines across her forehead. But he knew she wouldn’t allow that. So Dallas offered the next best thing.

“Take a glass of iced tea and go out by the pool. Swim, sunbathe, whatever. All I ask is that you relax and don’t come into this kitchen until I tell you. Let me take over for a while.” He waited, knowing she couldn’t let go that easily.

“It’s kind of you, Dallas, but it’s better if Misty and I stick to our routine.” Gracie kept her head down, refused to look at him. “She finds it easier if things stay the same.”

“Misty finds it easier?” he asked softly. “Or you do?”

“That’s not fair.” Her smoke-tinted eyes mirrored her hurt.

“I’m sorry. But I need time with Misty, Gracie.” Dallas pressed his case. “I’m not trying to push you out of her life, but if you’re always there, she’ll never learn to trust me, and we won’t be able to build a bond.” He touched Gracie’s cheek. “I promise I won’t hurt her. I love her, too.”

Her eyebrows lifted as if she doubted him.

“I loved her as soon as I met her,” Dallas said, unembarrassed by the emotion coloring his voice. “Didn’t you?”

“Yes.” A wide smile transformed her tired face. “I did.”

His beautiful, brave Gracie.

That’s how he’d begun to think of her, he realized. As his. The part of him he was missing, a part he wanted back. He knew, in the deepest recesses of his heart, that he must have loved this woman. Every sense came alive whenever she was near. If only he could remember something.

The undeniable connection he felt toward Gracie strengthened with every encounter. When his hand brushed hers as they settled an animal, or when she accidentally bumped his shoulder while reaching for something. When they sat across the table in the dining hall during lunch or coffee and she inadvertently shared some tidbit about Misty’s past. When Dallas lingered around the building, finding odd jobs so he could sneak glances at Gracie through the window while she worked on her records.

Despite all of that, she held back, keeping silent when he longed for her to pour out her heart about whatever troubled her.

Misty was the one door Gracie couldn’t close, and Dallas had a feeling that if only he and Misty could really connect, his daughter would provide him with the way back to his wife.

He stepped forward now, smoothed back damp strands of her hair, cupped her cheeks in his palms. “You can trust me, Gracie.”

She smiled, drew away, doubt clouding her eyes.

Dallas held his mounting frustration in check. He’d only known his daughter for two weeks. Gracie had been watching over her, protecting her, since her birth. Without him.

They both needed time to adjust.

“Please let me do this, Gracie.”

She hesitated for so long he turned toward the door, defeated. Her soft whisper stopped him. “All right. But please be careful.”

“Thank you.” Joy erased restraint. Dallas turned back and brushed his lips across her cheek.

Though Gracie’s head jerked as though she’d been singed by the contact, she didn’t move away. Her hand covered the spot on her face and her voice betrayed the tiniest wobble as she said, “I know she’s your daughter, Dallas. And I know you have every right to act as her father. It’s just hard…” She stared at him. “I…can’t lose her.”

“Why would you lose her?” The pain in her voice twisted his insides, and he automatically reached for her, surprised when she allowed him to press her head against his shoulder. “There are two of us to watch her now, Gracie.”

She felt right in his arms.

A familiar sweetness blossomed inside and he wondered how often he’d held her like this.

God, give me the words to say.

“Misty’s strong and healthy. You’ve got a good job, a nice home, a great place for her to learn and grow. Isn’t it time to stop being afraid?”

“I c-can’t,” she whispered.

He wanted to help her. Here was his chance.

“Misty’s a beautiful little girl God gave to you. Why would you think He’s going to take her away now?”

“I’ve always been afraid of losing Misty,” she confessed, curling her fingers into his shirt.

“But why? God loves our daughter more than either of us ever could.” Dallas rested his chin on her head. “You got through the tough times, Gracie. You did everything you had to. But you’re not alone anymore. I’m here. I want to help you. If you’ll let me.”

She sniffed, drew back with her head bent. “You’re a good father, Dallas. Misty loves having you in her world.”

Gracie said nothing more, but the worry lingered in her eyes. What lay at the bottom of this fear?

“Tonight will be great. You’ll see.” He hugged her once, then set her free. “Misty will be wondering why I’m not there to pick her up,” he added.

Gracie didn’t look at him. But that was all right. Dallas understood she needed time and space to collect herself. He needed a few minutes, too, to figure out his own racing pulse, and the overwhelming urge to embrace her again.

“You go relax. We’ll take our time coming back.”

“But—”

He shook his head. “Trust me, Gracie.”

“All right.” Her eyes glowed richly blue. “But if you’re not here in half an hour I’ll coming looking for you.”

“Yes, boss.” Dallas saluted, walked toward the front door.

It’s a start. Thank you, God.

But as he strode toward the building where his daughter would be finishing her last class of the day, Dallas’s feeling of satisfaction deflated when he turned and saw Gracie watching him.

 

Dallas’s dark, rumpled head was the perfect counterpart to Misty’s pale, wispy curls.

Gracie couldn’t help but admire the way he helped her daughter build her confidence in the water. Nor could she help wishing she was back in the pool, with them, sharing the fun, instead of sitting on the side watching, like an outsider.

Oddly enough, it felt good to let someone else take over. Though Gracie refused to relax her watch.

Before Dallas’s arrival, Gracie had seldom given a thought to her own needs. She’d focused completely on Misty, devoted herself to motherhood, done everything in her power to make sure her daughter had what she needed. It was all about Misty.

But now her maternal identity was being upstaged by a needy woman, one who wanted Dallas to notice she had taken special pains with her hair, and was wearing a pretty skirt and top to dinner. And a fresh floral perfume, so he wouldn’t be reminded of smelly animals.

What Gracie wanted was for Dallas to spend just one moment really looking at her, the way he used to.

And yet she was afraid of that very thing, felt guilty for even thinking it.

Her first responsibility was to her child. Her daughter was the best thing that had ever happened to her, no matter what her dad had said.

“You can’t even look after yourself. How can you care for a child?”

“I’ll learn. Other women do it.”

“Other women who have nothing else to do with their lives. I thought you were going to be somebody, to make something out of your life, not waste it on a fly-by-night man who only cared about you enough to sleep with you.”

“Dallas isn’t like that. Besides, we’re married.”

“So why isn’t he here, supporting you?”

Gracie had never been able to answer that.

“She must be sleeping.”

Droplets of water splashed on Gracie’s face, drawing her back to the present so fast she jumped to her feet. “Hey!”

Misty’s giggles echoed across the pool. “You weren’t watching me, Mommy.”

“I’m watching now.” Gracie snatched up a towel. “Ready to come out?”

“No.” Misty stood neck-deep in the water, her face alive with joy. “Me and Dallas want you to come in the pool with us. You said ‘later.’ This is later, isn’t it?”

Dallas said nothing. Leaning against the edge of the pool, half-submerged, he watched her with those gorgeous hazel eyes that made Gracie’s stomach do flip-flops.

Be careful what you wish for,
she told herself.

Misty’s pool toys surrounded her like a life preserver, proving that Dallas had paid attention to his daughter’s twice weekly swimming lessons with Emily. He remembered that a blind child needed the security of those toys in the vastness of a pool. He was trying so hard to be what Misty needed.

“Come on, ‘Mommy,’” Dallas said as he held up a hand to Gracie as Misty flopped down on a step and made swishing motions through the water with her hands, singing a little song about fish. “I promise I won’t splash you.”

“It’s late,” she began.

“It’s Friday. Tomorrow is parents’ visiting day. By the time the campfire and the meet-and-greet are over we won’t have a chance to swim together. Come on.”

He was pure temptation.

“All right. But just for a little while. It’s almost Misty’s bedtime.” Gracie hurried away to change. When she returned, Dallas and Misty were head to head, discussing something. “What’s up?”

“I want to swim all the way across the pool by myself.”

“Misty, honey, I’ve told you. When you’re a better swimmer—”

“I’m a very good swimmer now. Dallas said so.” The stubborn chin lifted. “I want to try, Mommy. I’m not afraid.”

No, but I am.

“What if we all go? Mommy will be on one side and I’ll be on the other. That way if you need any help, you can just reach out and grab us.”

“We’ll be a team.” Misty jumped off the step into the water and Dallas’s waiting arms, ramming him with the floating toy she clutched. “Don’t worry, Mommy. Dallas will help.”

Which was exactly the problem. Gracie was afraid of his help, afraid of depending on it. Until now she and Misty had managed perfectly well. But with Dallas in the picture, everything changed.

It was no longer just the two of them. Dallas made Gracie question her decisions, just as he challenged Misty to push beyond the boundaries Gracie had set. Every day he eased into their lives a little further.

“You tell me the minute you feel tired, Misty,” Gracie ordered. “And when we get to the other side, that’s it. Time for bed. No arguing. Agreed?”

“Oh, Mommy.”

When no help came from Dallas, their daughter finally agreed to her terms. Once Gracie had removed the barricade that kept Misty in one corner of the pool, the little girl pushed off with a hearty splash that spattered both adults.

Misty did well until the halfway point, when she grew tired.

“You can’t flop around like a walrus, kiddo. You’re not wearing tusks,” Dallas teased. He let her cling to his arm for a minute’s rest, then encouraged her to set off again, resuming the swimming stroke she’d been taught.

He was a natural at fatherhood, Gracie decided as she paddled alongside, watching for signs of fatigue in the tiny body. No matter how many questions Misty asked him, he never seemed to run out of patience or encouragement.

“Way to go, Misty.” Dallas hugged her close, then kicked back toward the steps, where he sat and let her rest on his knee. “You did it!”

BOOK: A Cowboy’s Honor
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