The Cowboy's Reunited Family. Brenda Minton
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Lindsey nodded, her eyes looking droopy, even to an inexperienced dad. He smiled at her, and she gave him a sleepy smile in return. But he could see in her expression that she believed her mom.
“I’m going to make coffee. Do you want a cup?” Jana offered as she stood in the center of the room looking adrift, not knowing what to do next.
“I’m not drinking a lot of coffee these days.”
“Right, sorry.” She turned to their daughter and Blake watched her face go soft. Lindsey was already asleep. Jana pulled a blanket off the back of the chair and covered their daughter. “I won’t leave, Blake.”
He nodded, because for Lindsey’s sake he would make an effort to trust. But the difference between now and ten years ago was if she left, she wouldn’t be able to take his daughter. She’d have to go alone.
* * *
“I’ll get your water. Do you need anything else?” Jana stood in the center of the living room. The furniture was new and Blake had replaced the area rugs. He’d never liked the area rugs she picked. He’d told her then that they didn’t match this home.
The rugs, like Jana, had been out of place here in the country. The one thing that both she and Blake had loved were the windows that soared twenty feet, giving them an amazing view of the countryside.
It was no longer her home. The little touches that had been hers were gone. The only thing that hadn’t changed was their daughter’s bedroom, with the twin bed covered in a quilt his mother had made. There were stuffed animals, just as they’d left them, and a dollhouse fit for a princess.
If she stayed in Dawson she’d have to get her own place. But first she’d have to get a job. The money left in trust by her parents was running low. She knew if Blake found out he’d suspect her of coming back to Oklahoma for money. Nothing could be further from the truth. She’d used her money to pay for Lindsey’s health care. She’d known all along that after Lindsey’s transplant she’d have to get a job.
She’d buy a little house in Dawson. She’d attend church. She would make this community her home.
Blake’s eyes were closed. She watched him for a moment, lost in thought. She’d always known he was a good man. Someone steady and dependable, a man you could count on.
For another few minutes she watched him in the chair, stretched out, his eyes shut, his breathing growing deep. Finally she walked away.
When she returned with the water, Blake was asleep. She pulled an afghan off the back of the sofa and draped it over him. She hesitated for a moment and then touched his cheek.
Oh, she was sorry, so very sorry. But she knew he wouldn’t believe her. He would believe that she had needed his help for Lindsey’s sake. He might even believe that she’d fallen on hard times and that had forced her to come running back to him. But would he ever believe how much she regretted leaving?
She moved her hand and shifted her attention from Blake to their daughter. She watched the easy breaths of a deep sleep. Jana had always watched Lindsey breathe. Moms did that. She was sure they all did. But in the past year she’d watched for different reasons. Because she needed to know that her daughter would take that next breath.
She’d spent a lot of time praying. For her daughter, for herself. She’d prayed about coming back to Dawson because she’d known that showing up in Oklahoma had several possible outcomes. Her biggest fear had been that Blake would have her arrested and she wouldn’t be able to watch over Lindsey.
She would have gone to jail. To keep Lindsey alive, she would have done anything, even that.
As Blake and Lindsey slept, she slipped out of the house, needing a moment to clear her head. She walked toward the barn. The dog, Sam, fell in beside her. The border collie raced ahead, found a stick and came back. Jana reached for the stick but Sam pulled away, unwilling to let her have his toy. The dog plopped to the ground, his paws holding the stick as he gnawed on it.
In the fields horses grazed. A few cattle dotted the far pasture. She stood at the corral fence watching a pony chomp on tufts of spring grass. She wasn’t sure, but she thought it might be the same pony Blake had bought Lindsey when she turned two. The little animal with the shaggy gray mane and darker gray coat looked up, watching her with an eager curiosity.
It chewed the last bite of grass and then ambled toward her. His dark eyes watched her, curious, intent.
“Billy Joe.” She remembered his name. His ears twitched, and he shoved his velvety nose at her, wanting attention.
Tears overflowed her eyes. Blake had kept the pony for ten years, waiting for his daughter to return. She reached through the fence and pulled the face of the pony close, breathing in his horse scent. She brushed the tears away. The pony slipped from her grasp, more interested in grazing the fresh shoots of spring grass.
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