A Cowboy’s Honor (8 page)

“You look very lovely, dear.”

She seemed about to return it to its box. Dallas rested his hand on hers. “Can I put it on for you, Gracie?”

She studied him, her eyes shrouded. Finally, she nodded.

He lifted the delicate chain, undid the clasp and set the chain around her neck. His fingers grazed her skin, lighting a fire inside him, but Dallas tamped it down, heeding the voice inside.

Go slow.

“Thank you.”

“Thank you for being a wonderful mother, Gracie.”

She frowned, then noticed Misty had wandered away from them and was now tumbling happily across the grass.

“Misty, be—”

Dallas touched her lips with his finger. “Don’t.”

Gracie knocked his hand away. “Do not tell me how to care for my daughter.”

So they were back to that again.

“She’s free,” he whispered, trying to help Gracie see. “For a few moments in her very careful world, she’s free to let go and play. Don’t ruin it.”

Gracie opened her lips to say something, thought better of it and studied him instead. Dallas held still under that probing scrutiny, longing to gather her into his arms and soothe away her fears as easily as Misty had shed her own.

A squeal interrupted the moment.

“He’s been watching me for a long time.” Misty sat perfectly still, her head tilted to one side as she listened to the dog panting contentedly beside her.

“Where did that dog come from?” Dallas asked.

“Maybe we should—”

“He’s a beautiful dog, Miss. Why don’t you talk to him?”

“Hello, dog.”

The dog woofed a quiet greeting. One paw touched her skirt, which was flounced out around her on the grass. Misty’s lips moved soundlessly, then she reached out a hand. The dog’s haunches twitched but he stood perfectly still as she brushed her fingers over his side, stroking the red-gold fur as she absorbed every detail.

“Dallas, stop staring at that thing and do something.” Gracie grabbed his hand.

“Wait.” Dallas wasn’t sure why, he only knew his daughter was in the midst of a discovery, and he didn’t want to ruin it. The dog wasn’t threatening or uncomfortable. In fact, he seemed to have built an immediate connection with the little girl.

“You’re very big,” Misty whispered, her hands stilling as the dog lay down beside her, pushed his head under her hand. “Your head is big.” She moved her fingers.

When the chubby digits moved too near the animal’s teeth, Gracie gasped, but Dallas held on to her hand.

“Give her a minute.”

“You have such nice fur. When I get my Seeing Eye dog, I hope he’s like you. You’re strong but nice.” Misty murmured little comments, all the while stroking the dog until he finally stretched forward and swiped her face with his tongue. She giggled. “Mommy, look at this dog. He’s kissing me.”

Gracie was speechless.

“We’re looking, sweetie. He sure does like you,” Dallas called.

Misty pushed the furry head away but the dog was not to be moved. He thrust his muzzle into her lap and closed his eyes.

Misty’s delicate fingers eased over the animal, memorizing the silken ears, the long neck, the beautifully combed hair. The dog was obviously well cared for.

“I wonder who he belongs to.” Dallas scanned the park. It took a minute before he saw a little girl in a wheelchair. She was searching left and right, calling something. “Misty, I think someone is looking for that dog. I’m going to tell her he’s here. Okay? Mommy will be here, on the bench. Fifteen steps,” he said.

“Okay.”

“Dallas, you can’t leave her with him. What if—”

“If he wants to leave, don’t hang on to him, okay, Misty? He might hear his owner and know he has to go back.”

“Okay.”

“She’ll be all right,” he whispered to Gracie. “The dog is trained. Look at his collar. Those tags are specific to animals trained by the Tarvin Academy. It uses behavior modified animals for special-needs kids.”

Gracie frowned. “Are you sure?”

“Yes.” He didn’t know why he knew that, but Dallas was certain of the dog’s integrity. He squeezed Gracie’s hand, then loped across the grass to the young girl in the wheelchair. “Did you lose your dog?”

The child blinked, stared at him.

“An Irish setter?”

“Y-yes.” She sniffed. “You know Rusty?”

“He’s lying with my little girl on the grass. She’s blind and he’s letting her pet him.” He explained that he didn’t want to startle the dog, asked if they’d come with him. The little girl nodded, pulled out a leash.

“How did Rusty get away?” Dallas asked.

“He likes to run. I let him off the leash. He went twice, but the third time he didn’t come back.” She let go of the button on her chair, paused. “Did your little girl have ice cream?”

“A big cone. She spilled it all over her dress.”

“Rusty loves the smell of ice cream,” the child’s mother explained. “It’s the only thing that seems to make him disobey.”

“You should tell Tarvin. I’m sure they have a procedure for curing that. How long have you had Rusty?”

“Three months. How did you know he was from Tarvin?”

“His collar.” It wasn’t true. Something inside Dallas had recognized the animal’s actions, the specific sloping of the skull that signaled the dog’s acquiescence. The way the setter angled his head, held his stance—he knew those moves, knew the animal had been trained at the Tarvin facility.

But how did he know it?

“Stay, Rusty,” the little girl called as they got closer to Misty. She wheeled her chair as near as she could and the two began chatting.

“Gracie, this is…” Dallas paused. He didn’t know their names.

“Sarah Frank and that’s Amanda, my daughter.”

“It’s nice to meet you.”

They spent a few minutes talking. Dallas knew Gracie wouldn’t linger long. She hid it, but she was still steaming. At him.

“I think it’s time we headed home,” Dallas said a short time later. “Thanks so much for sharing Rusty.”

Misty reluctantly said goodbye to her new friends, then grasped Dallas’s hand as they headed back to the truck. Halfway there she stumbled, and he scooped her up in his arms, set her on his shoulders.

She was asleep when they reached the truck. He tucked her in her seat, did up the belts, waited while Gracie checked his work. Once they were on the road, he opened his mouth a couple of times to ask her what was wrong, but decided it would be safer to let her negotiate traffic first.

At Gracie’s house, Dallas undid Misty’s belt and carried her inside. In a few minutes Gracie had her out of her sticky dress and tucked into bed for a nap.

She made sure everything was in its place before leading Dallas from the room.

“I suppose I should go,” he said.

“Oh, no you don’t.” She picked up the baby monitor, grabbed his arm and pulled. “You have a few things to explain, Dallas.”

Dallas didn’t need anyone to explain that they were about to have their first argument.

“H
ow dare you, Dallas Henderson!”

Gracie was so mad. It didn’t help that he sat there staring at her as if she’d asked him to pass the mustard.

“How dare I what? What did I do?”

“Misty fed that wild stallion that just came in. You actually let her get within reach of his teeth, didn’t you?”

Dallas couldn’t lie so he stayed silent.

“He’s a wild animal, Dallas.”

“He’s not wild. He let me sit on him.”

So he’d been working with the new horse when she wasn’t there. Though it galled her, Gracie knew she couldn’t argue over that. He was an employee of the ranch, after all. And he did know about gentling animals.

But Misty didn’t.

“He could have bitten her. I haven’t given him all his shots yet. Who knows what he carries?”

“Gracie, you know animals. Did Patch look that dangerous to you?”

Patch. He’d already named the black-and-white pinto. Somehow that made her angrier.

“Until we came here she’d never been near a horse. She doesn’t know how to handle a tame one, let alone a wild thing that’s barely been ridden. How could you deliberately put her in danger?”

“I’m her father.” Dallas stood, his own color rising. “I would never endanger Misty, no matter what you think.”

“Well, you did.”

“No. I taught her how to hold the grass so he could sniff it and then eat it. I taught her that not all things are bad or dangerous, that sometimes creatures just need a little love. I’m trying to teach her not to be afraid.”

“I’ll teach my daughter those things. In my own time. My way,” Gracie snapped. She was losing control of everything. And she hated it.

“Really? How will you teach her not to be afraid when you’re scared of everything? I have a right to spend time teaching her things. You agreed to that.”

“Not with the horses. I don’t want her near the horses.”

She shouldn’t have said that.

Gracie knew the moment the words left her lips that she’d opened a crevasse between them.

“Why? What’s wrong with horses?” He was standing too close, pressing for answers she didn’t want to give. “Patch isn’t wild. He may have run loose for a while but he was broken. He’s not dangerous.”

“I’m setting the ground rules here. And I say no horses, Dallas. I mean it.”

“This is a ranch. Horses are a part of it.” He frowned in confusion. “How can she possibly stay away from them? All the kids will be starting riding lessons next week.”

“Misty won’t be among them.”

“What?” He couldn’t believe she would refuse, but her glacial glare wasn’t melting. “Why shouldn’t she join the rest of the kids?”

Why did he refuse to see? Gracie swallowed. She’d have to spell it out for him.

“Misty is blind, Dallas. She can’t direct a horse, can’t stop it if it goes out of control. The horses are too big for her. If she falls she’ll hurt herself. I won’t allow it.”

Dallas dragged a hand through his hair, his brows lowered. “Do you hear yourself, Gracie? You’re denying her the chance to blend in with the other kids doing something she could enjoy. Why?”

“They don’t have the same disabilities,” she snapped stubbornly.

“Some of them do.” He lifted her chin, frowned at what he saw in her eyes. “What’s really going on? You said you brought her here to help her become more independent.”

“There’s not a situation in the real world in which she’d have to ride a horse. There’s no need to take the risk.”

“There’s every need.” Dallas glared at her. “Did you see her with Rusty this afternoon? She built a rapport with that dog so fast it was amazing. I’ve never seen anything like that. She did the same with Patch. She has the ability to understand animals and they understand her.”

“Like you do, you mean?” Gracie winced at the scathing note in her voice. But she could not stop the words from coming. “Are you sure you’re not projecting your abilities onto Misty, Dallas?”

“Are you sure you’re not projecting your fears?”

“How dare you?” Outraged, she jumped up from her chair.

“I dare because I love that child and I want her to experience everything in life that she can. There’s always a chance something could hurt her, Gracie. But there’s a bigger change she’ll be enriched.”

Anger took over. “You are so naive. You haven’t changed at all, Dallas. You waltz through life expecting that everything will go the way you want it to.” She glared at him, bitterness welling up. “Well, life isn’t like that. Things happen that shouldn’t and some of us have to pick up the pieces. I protect what I love. I don’t risk it.”

“That’s not fair!” Dallas was angry, too. He glared at her. “I didn’t deliberately abandon you, Gracie, so stop playing the martyr.”

The angry words chafed her and she opened her mouth to retort.

“Why are you arguing, Mommy?”

Gracie stifled a groan.

“Is it because I did something wrong?” Misty’s voice echoed her doubts.

Dallas shot her a look that plainly said,
See?
He hunched down in front of his daughter, hugged her close.

“No, Misty. You didn’t do anything wrong. Not at all. We were just discussing things and we got a bit angry. But that’s okay. Lots of people disagree. We’ll talk it over and we’ll come to an understanding.”

“But you were arguing about me.” Misty held still for a moment, then shifted out of his grasp. She walked to her mother, touched her hand. “Mommy?”

“Everything’s fine, honey.”

“I know you told me not to go near the horses, but Dallas said it was okay. He said we’d just stop and say hello.”

Gracie’s face turned thunder-dark. Mindful of Misty, Dallas drew his wife aside.

“Gracie, we both know Elizabeth can afford to have a riding school here because she doesn’t have to buy every horse. Some are problem horses whose owners donated them, some are wild. I think Patch is different.”

“Elizabeth said Patch wandered onto the ranch and wouldn’t leave. She tried to find his owner, but no one responded.” Her blue eyes darkened.

“Sometimes when a ranch fails, the owner releases the horses to fend for themselves.” Dallas nodded. “I think that’s what happened to Patch.”

“He chose us? Is that what you’re saying?”

“Maybe. Patch wants to be with people, that’s why he doesn’t leave when the gate is open. Haven’t you noticed? There are lots of signs that he knows what’s expected of him, signs that tell me he simply lost his way for a while. He’s happy here. I can tell because he lets me sit on him.”

“Patch isn’t a bad horse, Mommy. Rory told me he kicked part of the fence down, but that wasn’t because he’s bad. Patch hurts inside.”

Gracie frowned. “How do you know?”

“He told me.”

“How did he tell you, honey?” She watched the heart-shaped face for an answer that would explain the certainty in Misty’s solemn voice. “Did Dallas tell you Patch hurts inside?”

“No. Dallas told me to listen to him, so I did. Then…I just knew it. At first Patch was afraid I’d hurt him, like some other kids had, and he was scared to take the grass from me. But after a while he knew I wouldn’t.”

Dallas had given her much the same explanation six years ago when she’d asked him how he got the animals to trust him. Gracie hadn’t understood it then, didn’t now.

The doorbell interrupted their discussion.

One of the ranch hands stood at the door.

“Can you come, Dr. Henderson? That colt—it’s not acting right.”

“Yes, okay.” She glanced at Dallas. “Could you stay with her?”

“No. I want to come with you, Mommy.”

Gracie tried to dissuade her, but Misty was adamant.

“Dallas can come with us, can’t he? We could all go together.”

Seeing the urgency on the hand’s face, Gracie finally gave in. As they walked toward the main barn, Misty would dart ahead a few steps, then suddenly turn around and come back, clinging tightly to Gracie’s hand. On one of her forays ahead, Dallas spoke.

“She’s scared,” he said softly. “Our voices must have woken her and now she’s afraid. I’m sorry. I never meant for that to happen.”

Gracie had to tell him. “My father broke horses to pay for his schooling. He loved riding and tried to teach me when I was very young.” She gulped, forced out the words. “I fell off a horse when I was three. Actually, it dragged me awhile before my dad caught it. I broke my arm. I was terrified. I guess that’s stayed with me. I don’t want Misty to go through what I did.”

“You don’t seem afraid when you’re with the horses,” Dallas murmured.

He placed his hand on her arm, drew her to a halt. His dark eyes searched her face, then he said quietly, “You’re not three anymore. Isn’t it time you conquered that fear, Gracie?”

She didn’t answer. But as she worked with the colt, dropped medicine into its mouth and smoothed it down his throat, his words would not be silenced. And when Dallas led Misty into the stall near the colt, to touch it and let it lick her fingers, her tinkle of laughter, the knowing way she fondled the baby animal, brought up a question Gracie couldn’t ignore.

Was fear the legacy she was passing on to her daughter?

“I don’t want to go to church without you, Mommy.”

Misty’s whiny voice made Dallas pause on the doorstep. It had been the same all week. His daughter steadfastly refused to do anything with him unless her mother was present.

His fault.

He’d caused the argument, pushed too hard and stirred up both Gracie’s and Misty’s insecurities. Now he was trying to make up.

“Good morning.” Dallas tapped on the screen door frame, let himself inside at Gracie’s call. “Isn’t it a gorgeous day today?”

“It’s raining,” Misty told him with a frown.

“I know. Only a shower. Besides, rain is good. It gives the land a drink, helps make the grass green so the cows can have a good lunch, and lets the horses have a break from all the bugs. We like rain.”

“You’re silly.” She returned his hug. “I’m cleaning the kitchen while Mommy gets ready.”

“Good for you.” So Gracie had consented to come to church again. “Your choir is singing today, isn’t it?”

“Good morning, Dallas.” Gracie was so lovely his heart ached to be the one she smiled for, the one who made her laugh. He wanted to see her eyes widen the way they had the evening he’d kissed her. He wanted the right to stay here with her and Misty, not to be sent away at night.

“I like being married to you, Dallas.”

The words popped up from a hidden ravine in his mind. He waited, hoping, but nothing more happened.

Would it ever?

“Why doesn’t he answer me, Mommy?”

Dallas snapped back to reality.

“Sorry, Miss. I fell asleep for a minute. All that swimming with you two yesterday wore me out. What did you say?”

“I put all the dishes in the sink. Can you help me put on my dress now?”

“I can do that, sweetie.” Gracie stepped forward.

“No. I want Dallas to help me.”

He walked to Gracie and brushed his lips over hers.

“What was that for?”

“You. You look very beautiful.”

“Thank you.” She touched a hand to her mouth.

“Come on, Dallas. If you keep kissing Mommy we’ll be late.”

Gracie blushed. Dallas grinned, kissed her once more, then hurried after his daughter.

“How’d you know we were kissing?” he asked, curious about her ability to pick up on certain things.

“I just did,” Misty told him, wiggling out of her robe. “I always know when you’re kissing Mommy.”

“I see.” Apparently his daughter was more intuitive than he’d realized. “What did you want to talk to me about, Miss?”

“Can you close the door? Mommy’s listening and this is a secret.”

“Okay.” He saw Gracie standing in the hall. She’d heard every word. Carefully, he closed the door. “How did you know Mommy was listening?”

“I could hear her. I always can.” She slid her hand over the bed, found her dress. “I need help to put this on. Please.”

“It sure has a lot of buttons.” Dallas fumbled as he tried to ease the tiny pearl buttons from their loops. “There.”

He slipped the dress over her head, helped her stick her arms through the sleeves, then began the arduous process of rebuttoning the pretty blue garment.

“What’s the secret, Miss?” Dallas liked calling her that. It was their special name. It made Misty feel grown-up and important, and it made him feel they had a special bond between them. “Is it about Rory?”

“No. It’s about Mommy. Is she sad, Dallas?”

He hesitated briefly. “Why do you ask, sweetheart?”

“Mommy had another bad dream last night. She was crying and calling your name. She kept asking God why.”

“Does she have a lot of bad dreams?” He knew he shouldn’t be asking Misty questions about Gracie, but Dallas was hungry for details about his wife, of what she was thinking and the past she wouldn’t share with him.

“I think it’s always the same one. She says she’s sorry to her daddy, asks you to come back, and then cries at God.” Misty frowned. “I don’t like it.”

“People have bad dreams sometimes, Miss. But if you get scared or worried about it, all you have to do is ask God to help and He will. He’s just waiting to help.”

“Always?”

“Always. No matter what.”

“Maybe you better tell Mommy that.”

“Maybe I will.” While they had this moment, he decided to press further. He needed to figure out the contortions of Misty’s mind, too. “Why wouldn’t you go to the river with me yesterday? The other kids went with their parents.”

“I know. Rory told me.” Misty slid her feet into her white sandals, then held up one leg, waiting for him to fasten the buckles. “I wanted to go,” she admitted softly. “But sometimes when I go with you Mommy gets sad. I don’t want her to be sad.”

Torn between parents.

It was not the way Dallas envisioned life with his daughter. He did up the second sandal before tugging her into his arms. No matter how long it took he would win Gracie over, and he would do it without hurting Misty.

“I don’t want her to be sad, either, sweetheart. Let’s try to cheer her up today.”

“Okay. I’ll sing my very bestest. What will you do?”