Читать книгу A Family for Tory and A Mother for Cindy: A Family for Tory / A Mother for Cindy - Margaret Daley - Страница 11

Slade rushed out the back door toward Mindy who lay on the ground by the tire swing. Tory quickly followed. As he approached, his daughter pushed herself to her knees and struggled to stand. All he saw was the scraped skin on her shin and blood beading around the wound. The heaviness in his chest made his breaths shorten.

He scooped up Mindy into his arms. “Are you all right, baby?”

She squirmed. “Dad-dy—oo-kay.”

Slade started for the house.

“No! Swing!” Mindy continued to wiggle until he put her down. She headed for the tire.

“But your leg—”

Tory touched his arm, stopping his progress toward his daughter. “She’ll be fine. I’ll take care of the scrape later.”

He swung his attention from his daughter to the petite woman who stood a foot from him. The physical contact was so brief that Slade wondered if Tory’s fingers had grazed him. Now her hands were laced together so tightly that her knuckles were white and tension lined her features.

“Why don’t you push her while I go get a Band-Aid and something to clean up her shin?”

Slade watched the woman, who had been a part of his daughter’s life for months, who was becoming very important to Mindy. Tory walked toward the back door with a grace and confidence Slade had seen when she dealt with her horses. But beneath that layer of assurance was a vulnerability that drew him to her. She had been so good with Mindy. He wanted to help her as she had helped him. But he didn’t know what the problem was.

“Dad-dy.”

He twisted toward Mindy. “Do you want me to push you?”

“Yes!” Mindy began to worm her way through the hole in the tire.

Slade grasped her around the waist and situated her safely on the swing with her arms looped around the rubber and her legs dangling in front. He gripped the tire and brought it back a few feet, then let go. His daughter’s squeals of laughter erased his earlier concerns. In the past twenty-two months he hadn’t heard that sound nearly enough. Tory was not only good with Mindy but for her, as well.

The back door slamming shut indicated Tory’s return. Slade peered over his shoulder as she approached him, noting the shadows of dusk settling over the yard, obscuring her expression. He gave his daughter a few more pushes, then let the swing come to a slow stop.

“I hate to cut this evening short, Mindy, but it’s getting late and we have to get up early tomorrow and come back out here.”

Mindy squirmed through the hole, resisting any help from him. She stood patiently while Tory dabbed some hydrogen peroxide on the scrape, then covered it with a Band-Aid.

Tory straightened. “Why don’t you let Mindy spend the night with me? That way she’ll get to bed on time and you won’t have to drive all the way back out here tomorrow morning.”

“Yes!” Mindy clapped her hands. “Plee-ze.”

“She doesn’t have her pajamas or toothbrush.”

“I have a T-shirt she can wear and I have an extra toothbrush. She can wear the extra clothes she has out here and you can bring another set tomorrow evening.”

Slade took in his daughter’s eager face and said, “Okay, if you’re sure.”

“I wouldn’t have asked if I wasn’t.”

“Goo-dy.” Mindy started for the tire swing.

“No, young lady. You need to get ready for bed.”

His daughter’s lips puckered into a pout. “But—Dad—”

“Mindy, your father’s right. We’ll need to get up early to take care of the horses.”

“Oh yeah.” Mindy’s pout disappeared as she began her trek toward the house without another thought to the tire swing.

“I don’t think I’ve ever gotten that quick of a turnaround about bedtime.”

Tory grinned. “It’s all in what you can offer them.”

“And you have the advantage. You’ve given her something to look forward to. Thank you.”

“It’s been my pleasure.”

Two red patches graced Tory’s cheeks, heightening her quiet beauty. She veiled the expression in her large brown eyes and started to follow Mindy into the house. The woman’s every motion was economical, nothing wasted, Slade thought as he observed her mount the steps to her deck. He inhaled deeply of the spring air, laden with the scent of wildflowers and earth. Scanning the backyard surrounded by fenced pastures, he decided that he liked the country and its seemingly slower pace.

“Again, thank you for letting Mindy stay over. I hope she goes to sleep. She was so excited when I said good-night.” Slade stepped out onto the front porch.

Tory came out, closing the screen door but leaving the wooden one open. “I’ll check on her in a few minutes and see if she fell asleep.”

“Don’t let her talk you into staying up. She’s quite good at that.”

“Then she’s met her match.” Tory leaned into the wooden railing and scanned the darkness that blanketed the landscape. A firefly flew near. She observed its progression across her yard and into the trees that lined the west side of her house. When the blackness swallowed up the insect, reminding her of the lateness of the hour, her tension grew at the isolation and night surrounding them.

“You do have a way with Mindy. You’re a natural with children.”

The compliment washed over Tory, easing some of the distress trying to weave its way through her. “I love children. That’s one of the reasons I started the riding program.”

“You’ll be a wonderful mother someday.”

This compliment bore a hole into her heart, and she felt as though the rupture bled. She didn’t see herself having children anytime soon, and yet according to her doctor, her time was running out. An uncomfortable silence fell between them, one that compelled Tory to say, “In order to be a mother you have to have a husband. I don’t see that happening.”

Slade tilted his head and stared at her. “Why not? You’re an attractive, intelligent woman.” The intensity in his eyes pierced through the layers of her reserve.

“My life revolves around my stable and my work” was the only answer she could find.

“The right man could change that.”

“And disappoint all the children?” Her voice husky, Tory shook her head. “I don’t think so.”

He chuckled. “I guess I shouldn’t argue with that. After all, my daughter is benefiting from your work and the Bright Star Stables.” He reached out and squeezed her hand. “I’d better be going. Long day tomorrow.”

Even though his casual touch lasted only a second, an eternity passed while Tory fought for her composure. The feel of his fingers around hers had burned into her skin. It had taken all her willpower not to yank her hand from his and flee into the house.

“Good night,” she murmured as he left. Trembling, she brought her arms behind her back and laced her fingers together.

For a short time tonight she had glimpsed what it would be like to have a family. The yearning had blossomed in her heart. Then her fears returned and latched on to her, making any thoughts of having her own children an impossibility.

The children’s giggles danced on the light breeze. Eyes closed, Tory threw back her head and let the sunlight bathe her face in warmth. The gentle lapping of the water against the shore and the serenade of a mockingbird nearby mingled with the continual laughter from Mindy and her best friend.

After spending the morning at church, this was a perfect way to spend the afternoon, Tory thought, opening her eyes to her bright surroundings by the pond. A family of geese swam from the other side toward the little girls who tossed bread crumbs on the ground by their feet.

“I’m glad Mindy’s friend could come,” Tory said, shifting on the blanket spread over the thick, lush grass by the water.

“So am I. She hasn’t gotten to see Laurie much this past year. Thank you for making the suggestion that Mindy bring a friend.” Slade sat by a tree.

With her arms propping her up, Tory leaned back, watching the children with the geese all around their feet. “Being with friends can be an important part of the healing process.”

“And I’ve isolated her too much?”

Tory peered at Slade with his back against the large oak tree, one leg drawn up with his arm resting on it. The vulnerability in his voice matched the look in his eyes. “She’s been pretty busy this past year recovering from the operation and the accident.”

“Now it’s time to move on?”

“Yes. She told me the other day she wants to go back to school in the fall. She misses her friends.”

Slade flexed his hand, then curled his fingers into a tight fist.

“What are you waiting for? For everything to be perfect? That’s a tall order. When is any situation perfect?” Tory knew she was pushing, but this was important to Mindy, so therefore important to her.

Slade blinked rapidly several times as though he hadn’t realized the implication of his actions for Mindy. “I just don’t want her hurt anymore. Last month we went to the mall for some new clothes and a couple of children laughed at Mindy when she walked by. She acted as if she didn’t hear them, but there were tears in her eyes. I don’t want that to happen to her at school. She’ll hate going.”

“God only gives us what we can handle.”

Slade shoved to his feet, a scowl creeping into his features. “Mindy has handled enough for an eight-year-old.”

“She has said something about going to church with me some Sunday. I would love for her to come. She said she used to go with you and your wife, but not since the accident.” Tory rose, feeling at a disadvantage with Slade hovering over her. She moved back a few paces into the warmth of the sunshine.

“Things have been so hectic and—” He paused, inhaled a deep breath and continued. “No, that’s not quite true. I feel God has let my family down. He took away Mindy’s mother. He took away who my daughter was. She’s had to start over, relearning the simplest things. What kind of God puts a child through that? Why couldn’t it have been me?”

The anguish that marked his words settled heavily over her. She needed to soothe his pain away. “We don’t always know why God does what He does, but He has reasons we don’t always see at first. What Mindy is going through now will shape the type of person she becomes. That may be a good thing in the long run.”

“So suffering makes a person better?”

“Sometimes. It can open a person up to other possibilities, more life-affirming ones.” Tory thought of her own change in the direction her life had been heading. Right now she could still be working for that large manufacturing firm in Dallas, never knowing the power of God’s healing through animals, never having seen the joy on the children’s faces when they rode a horse.

Slade turned his back on Tory and stared at his daughter retreating from the horde of geese demanding more bread, her giggles attesting to her happiness. “I’m sorry, I don’t buy that.”

“Time has a way of changing a person’s perspective.”

“Not all the time in the world would ever change how I feel about this.”

“But fighting what has already happened won’t make it go away.”

He spun toward her, a frown descending. “I should go with the flow?”

“Accept the changes and make the best of them.”

“No!”

The anger in his voice, the slashing scowl, caused Tory to tense and step away from him. Every nerve ending sharpened to full alertness.

His gaze drilled into her for a long moment, myriad emotions flickering deep within. Suddenly his frown collapsed, any anger he had evaporating. He plunged his fingers through his hair once, twice. “I’m sorry. I get so frustrated when I think of all that Mindy has gone through and still has to go through. All I want to do is make things better for her.” He rubbed his hands down his face. “It should have been me, not Mindy. Don’t you see that? She had nothing to do with the accident. She was an innocent bystander who happened to be sitting in the back seat of the car.”

The defeated look in his eyes impaled Tory’s heart, reminding her of how much pain had already been suffered by this man and his daughter. She moved toward him, wanting to comfort him. “Were you driving the car?”

His fingers delved into the black thickness of his hair over and over as though he wasn’t sure what to do with his hand. “Yes.”

That one word, full of guilt, hung in the air between them. Anguish etched deep lines into his face. Her heart twisted in a huge knot that seemed to lodge in her throat.

“A young man late for an appointment ran a red light. I didn’t see…” His husky whisper trailed off into the silence.

“So you blame yourself for the accident. You didn’t run the red light. It wasn’t your fault.”

“But if only I had seen the car in time, I could have done something. By the time I slammed on the brakes and swerved, it was too late.” He stared off into the distance as though he were reliving the nightmare all over again, his eyes dull with the memories.

“Sometimes things happen that we have no control over.” Control was always the issue, Tory thought, fighting her own sudden tightness about her chest. She struggled for a breath of air. Up until lately she had done so well keeping her own demons at bay. Why now, when she had a new life, must she be reminded of her own past pain?

“I know life can throw us a curve at any moment.”

Tory swallowed the lump in her throat and asked, “How will you blaming yourself help Mindy?”

He stabbed her with narrowed eyes. “Don’t talk to me about blame until you’ve walked in my shoes.”

Tory dropped her gaze from his unrelenting one, looking beyond his shoulder toward the pond. She took a moment to gather her frayed composure before saying, “True, I haven’t walked in your shoes, but I’ve done my share of blaming myself when I really had no control over the situation. I’ve discovered it does no good and doesn’t change a thing for the better.”

“I need to check on Mindy. I don’t want those geese to attack her.”

“I think we would have heard—” Tory didn’t finish her statement because Slade had left, striding toward his daughter, his arms stiff at his sides, his hands opening and closing.

Tory’s muscles released the tension gripping them, and she sank down onto the blanket. Shivering, she drew her legs up and hugged them to her chest while she watched Slade place his hand on Mindy’s shoulder and listen to his daughter and Laurie talk about the geese, their voices drifting to Tory. Mindy pointed to one of the adult geese herding the rest of them toward the pond. A baby, trying to scurry to catch up with the group heading back to the water, brought a huge grin to the little girl’s face, emphasizing the power animals had over people.

“Hey, is anyone hungry?” Tory called out to the trio by the water.

“Yes,” both girls answered.

Slade took Mindy’s hand and led the group to the blanket under the tree. “Are you kidding? We’ve worked up quite an appetite watching those geese gobble up all that bread.”

“Oh, Dad-dy—you’re—al-ways—hun-gry.”

“And I know what a good cook Tory is. I’ve been saving room for this picnic lunch since she asked us. I could eat a bear.”

Mindy put her hand over her mouth and giggled.

“Well, I’m fresh out of bears today, but I have fried chicken. Will that be all right?” Tory asked the group.

The girls nodded while Slade licked his lips, his eyes dancing with merriment.

“Bring it on,” he said while settling on the blanket across from Tory.

Mindy sat next to Tory with Laurie on her other side. The picnic basket was in the middle of the circle, every eye on it as Tory slowly opened the lid, releasing tantalizing aromas. She made a production out of delving into the basket and slowly bringing the contents out for everyone’s view. Next to the chicken she placed a plate of chocolate-chip cookies, Slade’s contribution to the lunch, a bowl of coleslaw and a container of sliced strawberries, pineapple and bananas.

After saying a brief prayer to bless the food, Tory said, “I prefer not to have to take any of this back with us so dig in.”

“If we can’t finish this off, I volunteer to take the leftovers home with Mindy and me.” Slade raised his hand as though he were in school and he was waiting for the teacher to pick him.

“You’ve got yourself a deal,” Tory said, laughing. “But of course, if Mindy and Laurie keep piling it on, there won’t be any left for either of us today, let alone any leftovers.”

Slade tried to sneak a chicken leg from Mindy’s plate. She captured his hand and pried it out of his grasp. Then he turned to Laurie who hid her goodies behind her back.

“I think you’re gonna have to fend for yourself. It really isn’t very hard to fill your plate with food. Here, let me show you.” Tory demonstrated how, by putting a piece of chicken on her paper plate, followed by a scoop of coleslaw then fruit salad.

“How about a cookie? Dessert is the most important food here, in my opinion. That’s why I volunteered to bring it. I know a bakery that makes the best cookies I’ve ever eaten.” Slade inched his hand toward the plate.

Tory gently tapped him on the knuckles with a plastic spoon. “You’re supposed to be setting an example.”

Slade grinned. “I thought I was supposed to be eating lunch.”

“Is your dad always this ornery?” Tory exaggerated a stern look.

Mindy bent over in laughter.

He quirked a brow. “I don’t believe that’s a compliment.”

“Well, at least you’re astute.”

“Mindy, come to your dad’s defense,” Slade said while plucking up the last chicken leg and waving it like a sword.

Mindy and Laurie continued to giggle.

“No help there,” he muttered, and dumped the last of the coleslaw onto his plate. When he took a bite of the chicken, he smacked his lips and said, “Mmm. This is better than my mother can fix.”

Tory nodded, saying, “Thank you. I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“Of course,” he continued as though she hadn’t spoken, “my mother has never fried a chicken in her whole life.” He looked innocently at Tory while putting a spoonful of coleslaw into his mouth. “And this is as good as Aunt—”

Tory held up her hand to stop him. “I think I’ve had enough of your compliments for the day.”

For the next ten minutes everyone ate their lunch to the sounds of the geese honking across the pond. Mindy craned her neck to see what was going on while cramming a cookie into her mouth, then snatching up another one.

Laurie stood and moved toward the water. “They’re chasing away a beaver.”

Mindy struggled to her feet. “Bea-ver?”

“There’s a family on the other side. They dammed the stream that feeds into the pond and have built their home there.”

“Can we go look?” Laurie asked.

“Can we?” Mindy stood next to her friend, observing the commotion across the pond.

“Let me finish eating and I’ll go—”

“Dad-dy, I can—go a-lone.” Mindy straightened her shoulders and lifted her head.

Slade threw a glance toward Tory, one brow arched in question.

“Stay away from the edge of the pond and stay on the path,” Tory said.

When the girls started toward the other side, Slade came to his feet to keep an eye on their progress. “Are you sure they’ll be all right?”

“They’ll be fine. The path is wide, worn and level.”

Slade bent and picked up his paper plate to finish eating his lunch while he observed Mindy. “You probably think I’m being overprotective, but I don’t want anything else to happen to my daughter.”

“You’re doing what you think is right.”

“It’s the parents’ job to protect their children. I let her down once. I won’t do it again.” Slade popped the last bit of food into his mouth.

“Mindy doesn’t feel that way. She thinks you’re terrific.”

“She talks about me?” Slade dropped his empty plate into the trash bag, then lounged against the tree, his arms folded over his chest, his legs crossed.

“All the time.”

Both of his brows rose, his sky-blue eyes growing round. “And?”

“She wishes you didn’t have to work all the time.”

“So do I, but all her doctor bills and therapy cost a lot of money. I want the very best for Mindy. Hopefully after my company’s expansion is complete, I’ll have more time for my daughter.”

There was so much Tory wanted to say to Slade, but his look didn’t encourage further discussion. She didn’t have the right to interfere, even if she had come to love Mindy like a daughter. “Have you heard from Mrs. Watson? Will she be back soon?”

A scowl darkened the expression on his face. “No.”

“Is there a problem with her niece or the baby?”

“Everyone’s fine. The problem is she now wants to stay and take care of her niece’s baby. She feels her family has to come first and her niece can’t find good arrangements for the baby. I know she’s right, but still—” He clamped his mouth closed on the rest of his words.

Tory pushed to her feet. “What are you going to do now?”

Slade stared at his daughter on the other side of the pond, his brows slashing downward. “I don’t know. I have to find another housekeeper, which I know won’t be easy. I felt so lucky when I found Mrs. Watson.”

“I’ll be glad to watch Mindy until you get a new one.”

“I can’t—” He stopped midsentence and looked back at Tory. “Are you sure you don’t mind? Because frankly, if you do, I’m not sure what I’m going to do.”

“This past week with Mindy has been great. I enjoy the company and she loves working with the animals. She’s even taken to the cat and her new litter that lives in the barn.”

“No wonder she’s been pestering me about getting a cat.”

“She’s named all the kittens, and after feeding and grooming Mirabelle, that’s where she goes next to check up on them.”

“I just found out yesterday about Mrs. Watson not returning. I haven’t had a chance to get in touch with the agency yet, but I will first thing tomorrow. I promise I’ll get someone as soon as possible. In the meantime, I’ll pay you for taking care of Mindy.”

She could use the money, but for some reason she couldn’t find herself accepting payment for something she wanted to do. Taking care of Mindy was important to her—an act of love. “No. Mindy is giving me as much as I’m giving her.”

“But—”

A shout from across the pond snatched the rest of Slade’s protest. He whipped about, every line in his body taut.