Beneath Montana Skies. Mia Ross
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she’d never confessed their father’s identity to anyone. Not even her family.
“No, Ty, they’re my daughters.” Tapping her chest for emphasis, she went on. “They’re Whittakers, end of story.”
Folding his arms, he scowled down at her but didn’t say anything more. Then, in a matter of a few seconds, his demeanor shifted, and he grimaced as if she’d sucker punched him.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked in a quiet voice laced with regret. “I know we weren’t in touch after I left, but you knew enough people who could’ve told you where I was.”
“I didn’t think you’d be interested,” she shot back, clinging to her anger like a shield. “And while we’re on it, you walked out on me with no explanation, no forwarding address. Once you pulled that stunt, I didn’t think you were exactly father material.”
He absorbed that in silence, a woeful look settling into an expression she’d never noticed on him in all the years they’d known each other. They’d been through hard stuff together, but he’d always been the lighthearted one, shrugging off things that would have caused a lesser man to stumble. Until the day he took off, she’d always believed that he could handle anything life threw at him without even breaking stride.
Gazing out the door toward the house, he came back to her with the firm jaw she recalled so well. “I would’ve found a way to make it work for us, you know that. You never even gave me a chance.”
She had to acknowledge that he was right, and the twinge of guilt she felt grew more insistent even as she tried to reason it away. “I made the best choice I could at the time.”
“I know you did.” Compassion softened his features, and she braced herself for the question she’d known he’d ask her at some point. “I don’t understand how Hannah’s so bright and Allie has autism. How does that kinda thing happen?”
“It’s not anything I did while I was pregnant,” Morgan informed him sternly, her back going up instantly. She’d told herself that over and over. But the nagging fear that she’d somehow caused her daughter’s condition still haunted her, although she insisted otherwise. “As soon as I found out I was pregnant, I quit riding and came home. I was on bed rest for the last four months, doing absolutely nothing except making sure my babies had the best chance of being born healthy.”
“Of course you did,” he said gently, regret flooding his eyes. “I didn’t mean to suggest you did anything wrong. I’m just wondering how one twin is totally normal and the other is left fighting such a huge challenge.”
Morgan noticed that he didn’t refer to Allie by her disability. It was something they’d all learned to do, because autism was a condition, not an identity. It was a subtle distinction to make, but an important one for the family. That he’d done it instinctively made her feel more inclined to cut him some slack. At least where the girls were concerned, she amended.
“Normal for Allie is different, that’s all. Her abilities are different, too, but she makes the most of them. She’s at the top of all her special classes, and like Dad told you, she has a great touch with animals. Socializing is tough for her, but she has a couple of classmates who she really likes hanging out with. Hannah and her friends are great with all of them, so they have a nice circle of girls together.”
“How have you managed all this?” he asked, motioning around them at their surroundings, “and raising two kids by yourself?”
Admiration softened his eyes, giving her jangling nerves a much-needed boost. “Plenty of help, and a large helping of faith. I accept that God sent Allie to us for a reason, and I just keep doing my best.”
The spark she’d noticed dimmed considerably, and he frowned. “You always had more faith than I did.”
“It’s a good thing, because I’ve needed every ounce of it.”
He took that in with a pensive look. “Does it make things easier?”
“It makes them possible,” she replied, opening up to him in a way she never could have imagined earlier. But part of him was reaching out to her, begging for understanding. Of what, she couldn’t say, but it was tough to resist that plea from someone she’d loved for most of her life.
And then, she heard herself say, “Ty, I know there’s something you’re not telling me. What happened to bring you home this way?”
Frowning, he motioned her to a nearby bale of wood shavings. As he sat beside her, for the first time she noticed that his once-fluid movements had a labored look to them. Resting his hands on the knees of his expertly ripped designer jeans, he took a few moments to collect himself before starting. “Last year at an event in Oregon, I got tossed coming outta the chute. The bull was still fresh and had a good head of steam, and he decided throwing me wasn’t enough. Long story short, he kicked me around that arena like a rag doll, and before the clowns could draw him away, he broke my back.”
And his pride, she added silently. Anyone who’d known him before the accident could see that. “Oh, Ty, that’s awful. He could’ve killed you.”
“Yeah, I know,” he admitted, swallowing hard before going on. “Anyway, I was in the hospital and rehab a long time, and even with my insurance, it got pretty expensive.” Nodding out to the truck, he added, “I’ve had to sell everything except that and Clyde. As of tomorrow, the truck belongs to a guy who lives over in Pine Valley. So it’s just me and Clyde and the five acres I bought from my parents when they sold their place a few years ago.”
“What are you gonna do?”
“Not sure,” he admitted soberly. “Preferably something that won’t cripple me.”
Tyler Wilkins had never been renowned for his brains, and physical work was clearly out of the picture for him now. That didn’t leave many options for him around a small town like Mustang Ridge. “Such as?”
“Not sure,” he repeated, adding a wry grin. “Guess I should’ve paid more attention in math class.”
“And science, social studies, English.” She added a few more of his less successful academic subjects through the years, ticking them off on her fingers.
“Yeah, well, you were always the smart one.”
“I never should’ve let you copy off me. You would’ve learned more that way.”
“No, I’d still be in high school, trying to figure out why the guy who invented algebra thought that mixing letters and numbers was a good idea.”
She laughed at that, and when he joined her, it struck her as odd to be sitting here in the barn, sharing a humorous moment with the man she’d once vowed to never speak to again. She hadn’t forgiven him, but she also couldn’t bring herself to keep kicking him when he was so far down he might not claw his way back to what he used to be for a long time. If ever.
“So,” he ventured in a hesitant voice, “does this mean you don’t hate me anymore?”
She didn’t answer him right away, as if she had to think it over. They were still there on that bale, mutely staring at each other, when her younger brother Ryan appeared in the open doorway at the other end of the barn.
“What’s goin’ on in here?” he demanded, clearly alarmed by what he saw. Hurrying over to stand in front of them, he planted his hands on his hips as he faced Ty in a protective stance. “Whatever you’re doing here, it looks to me like you’re done. It’d be good for you to leave before I forget we used to be friends.”
“I’m not here to make trouble,” Ty explained, his reasonable tone another surprise from the formerly hotheaded cowboy she recalled. “Morgan and I have something to talk about.”
“Not anymore, you don’t. You wanna talk to her, use a phone.” Ryan took another step forward and growled, “Now, get out.”
Ty didn’t protest further, but