Love Inspired June 2015 - Box Set 1 of 2: The Cowboy's Homecoming\The Amish Widow's Secret\Safe in the Fireman's Arms (15 page)

She shot him a wide-eyed look, then slowly nodded. “Sure. Of course.”

He took her hand and made his way through the people still circling the dance floor. When they passed his parents, he ignored his mother's knowing smile, his father's grin.

The moon was no longer full, but it was still light enough to make his way across the yard, away from the music and noise of the wedding tent.

“So, where are you taking me?” she asked, nervous laughter edging her voice.

“Right here,” he said, stopping at a pile of square bales he and John had set up for some of the photos Abby had requested. The bales were stacked two down, one up for a backrest and draped with cloth. He settled down on the lower one, leaning against the one behind, and held out his hand for Abby. She didn't seem to need another invitation and sat down beside him, resting her head on his shoulder. She fit perfectly in his embrace.

In the corrals beyond, the horses whinnied softly, sensing their presence.

“How is our baby calf?” Abby asked, her voice a murmur in the night.

“Doing great. He'll be pail-feeding soon.”

“How do you do that?”

Lee gently tucked a wisp of her hair around her ear and smiled. “Abby, I didn't take you out here to discuss the care and feeding of calves.”

“So, what
did
you want to talk about?”

“Are you being coy with me?” he asked, resting his chin on her silky hair.

“Who,
me
?”

He smiled, pulling her closer, took a breath and decided to go for broke. “Dad and I are going into town next week to sign me up as partner in the ranch. I'm going to make it official.”

“That's great,” Abby said, drawing back, but keeping her hands on his chest. “As I mentioned before, I think that's the right thing to do.”

He looked down at her, thinking of the conversation they'd had at the cattle drive. About her finding other work. He wasn't sure what to expect of her, but one thing he did know. He wasn't going to let her leave on him again.

“I know that we have a few issues to settle yet,” he said, tracing her features with his finger, then pressing a kiss to her lips. “And I know I can't make any assumptions, but I want to think that there's an us. A future.”

Abby was quiet and his heart lodged in his throat.

Then she looked up at him and smiled. “I'd like to think so too.”

He felt they were still edging around what he wanted to say, but at the same time, other shadows hung over them.

“But there is one thing I need to do before anything can be settled between us,” he said softly.

He caught a flare of panic in her eyes.

“I need to talk to your parents. Especially your father. I need to ask their forgiveness.”

Abby's hand clung to his, her fingers like a vise. “So soon?”

“The sooner the better. I sense that you're uneasy about it?”

Abby looked down at their joined hands, the moonlight casing her features in shadow. Lee couldn't read her expression. He wanted to tip her face up so he could see, but instead he waited.

“When my folks split up, my father was a broken and hurting man with a lot of problems,” she said. “I've struggled with my own difficulties with him, but he has been calling my mom more often the past few weeks. I think he wants to come for a visit. He says he's a different man—that he's turned over a new leaf—so we'll see.” She gave him a gentle smile. “Maybe he's different enough from who he was before. Maybe he'll accept what you have to say.”

“Then I'll pray that's the case,” Lee said.

She looked up at him, her gaze intent, as if she needed to impress whatever she was about to say on him. “You need to know, though, that whatever happens with my father, I hope we can find a way through all this. You matter more to me than anyone I've ever met.”

“And you to me,” he said, conviction ringing in his voice as the uncertainty, lingering all night, shifted into surety.

He kissed her again and as she settled against him, he looked out over the fields illuminated by the pale light of the moon. Fields that, Lord willing, would soon also be his.

His and Abby's.

* * *

Still humming the song that the band played last, Abby made the final turn onto her mother's street. Her lips still felt warm from Lee's kiss. She could still feel his arms around her, still feel herself twirling around the dance floor with her hand in his.

She thought of the pictures she had taken. Heather had approached her at the reception and mentioned that she might like to hire Abby for her own wedding. Assuming Abby would stick around, that is.

She could do more freelance work, as Lee had always hinted at. Make work of getting more local business.

Dreams and plans swirled through her mind, and hovering over all of them was Lee's presence.

And what would your mother think of these new developments?

The thought was like a douse of cold water. Abby wanted to dismiss the question, but she knew Ivy would not so easily be ignored.

At the same time, the words of the pastor's sermon on Sunday had percolated through the events of the week, reminding her that though Lee had made mistakes, so had she. That his sincere apologies were enough. She wanted to move on.

She smiled and then, to her surprise, felt the prickle of tears threatening. Tears of joy and happiness.

Thank you, Lord
, she prayed as she slowed down in front of her mother's apartment.

Then stopped. An old pickup was parked in the spot she usually parked in, and there was no room for her vehicle. She spun the wheel, made a quick U-turn to park on the other side of the street. But it was a busy night in the neighborhood and she had to drive to the end of the block before she found a spot to squeeze her car in.

A shiver danced down her spine as she walked down the quiet street, her high heels clacking on the sidewalk. Tonight life was good, she thought with a quick prayer of thanks, wrapping her shawl around her. And for the first time in years, she felt an anticipation that it might get even better.

She crossed over the street, then slowed as a light flickered on in the old truck parked in front of her mother's apartment. The door opened and her heart jumped into overdrive as a tall, slender figure stepped out. He wore a ball cap that cast his face in shadow from the overhead streetlights, but she could see that he wore a denim jacket, worn blue jeans and work boots.

And in one hand he held a long stick that rested on the ground.

She sent a panicked glance around the deserted street. A single light shone from the upstairs of one of the house, but the rest were dark. No one was around. She was on her own.

She should have accepted Lee's offer to take her home.

Dear Lord, protect me
, she thought as she came to a stop, looking for an exit, her heart pounding. Which way to go? Could she outrun him?

“Abby, it's okay,” the man called out, his raspy voice achingly familiar. “Abby, it's me—your father.”

Abby stopped, her one hand still grasping her camera bag, the other her shawl, as shivers wracked her body.

“Dad?” she returned, taking a slow, cautious step toward him. “Dad...is that you?”

In answer, he pulled his cap off. She could see the glint of his glasses, the brush of a mustache that he'd had as long as she could remember. What she had thought was a stick was only the cane that he started using after the accident.

It really was him.

Then, in spite of everything that had happened, in spite of the sorrow and grief at her parents' divorce, a tiny sob caught in her throat and she hurried her steps. She stopped in front of him, her one hand coming up to touch his dearly familiar face. Still wary, she took a careful sniff and her heart sang.

He didn't smell like alcohol or tobacco.

“Oh, Daddy,” she said, her throat thick with emotion as she gave him a tight hug. “I haven't seen you in so long.”

“I know, honey. I'm sorry,” Cornell murmured into her hair. Then he pulled away, his smile tentative. “I've been trying to contact your mother to arrange a meeting. She wouldn't make a decision, so I took a chance and came anyway.”

“Have you been up to the apartment yet?”

He shook his head. “No. But I heard from Louisa that you were at a wedding at the Bannister place, so I thought I would wait until you were home.”

“Where did you see Louisa?”

“At the Grill and Chill. She was sitting with that Bamford guy.”

Brooke wouldn't be happy to hear that, Abby thought. She brushed the inconsequential thought aside as she tucked her arm into her father's. “How are you feeling? How are things with you?”

He cleared his throat. “I've cleaned up my life, honey. I've made changes too.”

“I can see some of them,” she said. Then she gave him another tight hug. She pulled back and, to her surprise, saw the glint of tears in his eyes.

“I've missed you,” he said hoarsely.

“I've missed you too,” she returned. “Come up to the apartment. Let's talk there.” The air was still warm, but Abby didn't want to have her reunion with her father take place on a street outside her mother's apartment.

But he shook his head. “Sorry, sweetheart. I don't think your mom wants me up there. And I can't take it if she pushes me away.”

Abby bit her lip, thinking, understanding his dilemma. Trouble was, nothing was open this time of night in Saddlebank.

“Come sit inside my truck,” he said. “I have a thermos of hot chocolate. I just want to talk.”

Abby looked up at her mother's apartment window, but it was dark.

“Please, honey. Just talk. And for you, especially now, because of your relationship with Lee Bannister, it's important.”

His enigmatic comment intrigued her and, at the same time, created a shiver of apprehension. “How do you know about my relationship with Lee?”

“Your mom mentioned it. Said that she didn't like it. Then I asked Louisa and she said that you two had been spending a lot of time together. That you were with him at this wedding. That you were thinking of sticking around because of him, but also that you had some...reservations.”

Louisa talked too much, Abby thought indignantly.

“Please, come into the truck. I feel like a stalker talking to you out here,” Cornell said, walking around the front of his vehicle and opening the passenger door for her. His limp was still pronounced and Abby felt another surge of guilt at her relationship with Lee.

She pushed that down, thinking of her conviction that she and Lee would find a way through all this mess with her father. She couldn't let that waver. Not now.

Inside the truck her father poured some steaming hot chocolate from a thermos into a cup.

“I don't know an easy way to start with this,” he said, handing her the cup. “I guess the best place to start is that you need to know that I'm sorry for everything I put you, your mother and your brother through since the accident.”

“I'm glad to know that.” Abby had lifted the cup to her lips, but before she took a drink she took a sniff. Just to be on the safe side. But all she smelled was chocolate.

“I know my drinking caused a lot of trouble. But...I had lots on my mind,” he said.

“Of course. The accident created a lot of difficulty.”

Her father nodded, taking a sip from his cup, staring ahead, as if remembering. “So. You and Lee. Is it serious?”

Abby shrugged, her hands wrapped around her cup. “I like him. A lot. I know that might be difficult for you to hear, Dad, but he's very sorry for what he did. He wants to meet you to apologize.”

He was quiet so long, Abby's heart clenched. Would this be a problem?

“There's nothing to forgive,” he said, his voice quiet. Subdued.

“What do you mean there's nothing to forgive?” Abby lowered her cup, staring at him. “There's everything to forgive. The accident. The repercussions—”

Her father waved off her last statement. “Doesn't matter. All you need to know is that he's a good man. I want you to know that whatever happens, I want to give you both my blessing.”

Abby was puzzled by her father's quick assertion and blessing. Though part of her was happy he was able to forgive Lee, she couldn't quash a feeling that something didn't add up. Not after everything her father had always said about Lee. How angry he had been.

“Lee wants to talk to you about your blessing,” she said, looking over at her father, concern battling with confusion over his puzzling about-face.

“I don't want to talk to him.”

“I understand that,” Abby said, reaching out and touching her father's arm, her puzzlement turning into fear. “Of course it will be hard, but it will help him a lot,” she urged.

Her father tossed back the last of his hot chocolate. “You just tell him that I'm okay with you and him dating. I'm not going to stand in your way.”

“So why can't you tell him yourself?”

“I can't. It's too hard. It's...wrong. All wrong. He didn't...he's not...” Her father waved his hand as if dismissing what Abby wanted.

A curious tone in her father's voice puzzled her. “What do you mean, he didn't. Didn't what?”

Cornell shook his head. “Ignore what I said.”

Abby felt a shiver of dread. “Why do I get the feeling there's something you're not telling me?”

“I'm telling you only what you need to know.” Her father slammed his cup down and turned toward her, his face contorted with fear.

Abby pulled back, afraid herself at her father's expression. “What do you mean?”

“I can't tell you, Abby. I just can't. There's too much at stake.”

“What can't you tell me?” she insisted. “What is going on?”

“It's enough for you to know that Lee is a good guy. That's all I wanted to tell you. I want you to have a happy life.”