John said as he set a second suitcase on the ground. “But from what I could see, the front end was badly dented up and the tires had come off the rims.”
Monty frowned as he digested that information. “Well, we’re glad she’s okay.”
John nodded, then glanced past him to where Heather stood, hugging her sister. The lights from the ranch house spilled out, casting them in stark relief.
Ellen stood to one side, her arm around Heather’s shoulder, her neck brace preventing her from doing more than that.
When the two girls drew apart, Heather kissed her mom carefully on the cheek. Then John saw Ellen gently wipe her adopted daughter’s face, her own features looking pained. “Oh, baby girl,” he heard her say. “We missed you so much.”
“I missed you, too.” The broken note in Heather’s voice troubled him. She had never been one to share her emotions. To see her so vulnerable created a push-pull of tangled emotions. He shook his head, then turned back to Monty.
“I better get going. Adana is still sleeping, but she’s probably hungry. Never did make it to Saddlebank for dinner with Kim and Rex.” His in-laws were leaving on a cruise and had hoped to see him and Adana before they left tomorrow. It was too late to go back now.
“Would you like to join us?” Ellen asked.
Heather’s head swung toward him the same time he looked her way. It wasn’t too hard to see the alarm on her features. Seemed as if she was as anxious about spending time with him as he was with her.
“It’s okay,” he said, holding up a gloved hand. “I’m sure you have lots to catch up on with Heather. I don’t want to impose.”
“Oh, since when are you imposing?” Ellen protested. “You eat here plenty.”
“And that’s why I should let you have some time alone.” Sitting with Heather in the truck had been harder than he wanted to admit to himself. She was part of his youth, his past. She’d only ever been his girlfriend, unlike Sandy, who had been his wife.
“Thank you for that,” Monty said. He leveled John a steady look, and behind that gaze John sensed an unspoken question.
Was Heather’s presence going to cause a problem?
Monty had always been very protective of Heather, a legacy of her troubled past, most likely, and John had always tried to tread carefully where she was concerned. That’s why, back in high school, he had waited to date her. That Mitch had beat him to it was poor luck and bad timing. However, when John had finally worked up the nerve to ask her out, it was with fear and trepidation of what Monty would think. Whether he was worthy enough to date the boss’s daughter. But once he did, he and Heather had fallen hard for each other. And started making plans.
He had always wondered if the Bannisters had encouraged Heather to go to college precisely to forestall their plans.
Adana’s wails from the truck reminded him of his other obligations. His main priority.
“I better get her back to the house,” he said, taking a step away.
He caught Monty’s nod of approval, and as he walked to the truck John found he had to stifle his frustration. Did Monty still see him only as the foreman’s son?
But in spite of his feelings, in spite of their time apart, he couldn’t help glancing back at Heather.
Their eyes met and held, John feeling the too-familiar ache in his heart.
He shook it off, turning his attention to Adana. He had his little girl to think of and she needed security and stability in her life.
Heather represented anything but that.
* * *
“Got clean tights, diapers, sippy cup, pacifier.” John marked off the checklist as he went through the diaper bag. Though his home wasn’t that far from the main ranch house, he always liked to make sure Adana had enough provisions for the day.
“Want to go,” his daughter said, as he packed up. She scooted away from him toward the back door, as if she knew exactly what was happening next.
“Yeah. I know, munchkin. I’m coming,” he said. They were running a little later than usual this morning. After breakfast John had cleaned up the house, did a load of laundry and organized the diaper bag. All in an effort to put off going to the main house.
Monty and Ellen always invited him in for coffee when he brought Adana over, and he always accepted, but Heather was there now.
He hooked the bag over his shoulder, scanning the house to make sure that everything was in order. This was the home he had grown up in, as the son of the foreman. It was compact and simple, and it was home for him and Adana.
It was a cozy place, he reminded himself. Sandy had never wanted to move back to Saddlebank after they got married, preferring their life together in Great Falls. However, there were times he’d imagined the two of them living here, after Monty had offered him a job working on the ranch. But Sandy never wanted to live in their hometown, so the dream had never materialized.
His eyes fell on her photo, sitting by his Bible, both resting on a table by his easy chair. He took a moment to pick up the picture, smiling down at it.
He had taken it a month before Adana was born. Sandy stood in profile to the camera, her hands cupped around the swell of her stomach, her short brown hair teased away from her face by a gentle breeze. Her head was tipped to one side, as if she’d been contemplating the new life growing inside her.
Compared to Heather’s sophisticated allure, Sandy looked almost plain, with her freckled complexion and large green eyes. No stunning beauty, she’d always had a beauty of spirit, which had more staying power than Heather’s breathtaking looks.
And each moment he’d spent with Sandy, he had grown more and more in love with her.
John touched her picture, sorrow welling up in him at the horrible loss he’d faced when she’d died. Leaving her behind in the hospital while he took his squalling baby home was the hardest thing he’d ever done. He still wasn’t sure how he had gotten through the empty months afterward. If it wasn’t for his parents, and their invitation to come back and stay with them at Refuge Ranch, he was sure he would have fallen apart. Their support, and Monty and Ellen’s help, had brought him through that dark valley to where he was now.
On solid ground with a daughter he loved fiercely.
Sandy’s little girl.
“I miss you,” he whispered to the beloved image in the photo. He waited a moment, as if listening for the giggly laugh that would bubble up every time he tried to get mushy with her.
But the only sound he heard was the happy slap of Adana’s hands on the window of the porch door.
He set the picture frame down, straightened it and gave his wife’s image a smile. “I told you I would take care of Adana and I will.”
He spoke the words aloud, as if to remind himself what was most important right now.
He would need every bit of resolve to get through the unwelcome distraction of Heather at the ranch. It was a good thing she was around for only a week, he thought as he walked toward his daughter, now tugging on the porch door. John could manage if he avoided Heather, which shouldn’t be too hard. Cows needed vaccinating before calving. The barn needed to be made ready. Corrals, chutes, gates and fences needed to be checked over and repaired. There was plenty to keep him busy while she was here.
“I go outside,” Adana called out, her hands landing on the window again with a carefree splat. She gave John a crooked grin.
“Yes, yes, we’re going.” He scooped her up in his arms, then held her a moment, looking into her smiling face, her bright blue eyes with their thick lashes, reminding himself that this precious bundle was his main focus.
He gave her a tight hug, holding her close. For a moment