Dreaming on Daisies (24 page)

A twig snapped in the distance, faint but distinct in the calm air, and Leah’s hands stilled. Animals rarely made noise while traveling, unless pursued and not paying attention to where they were running.

A sense of dread pushed aside all her other tumultuous emotions. The last person she wanted to see right now was Pa. Or Tom. She hadn’t come close to sorting through the feelings stirred by her mother’s revelation. She didn’t care to face either of them and have to explain her swollen eyes, red nose, or the letter strewn across her skirt.

She shuffled the pages back into a neat pile and folded them, then turned her head, peering over her shoulder. Steven Harding stood a dozen yards away, warm eyes pinned on her. Concern shone clearly on his handsome face.

Steven stuffed his hands in his pockets and rocked on his heels, indecision rooting him to the spot. Leah sat at the base of a tree, her skirts spread around her and clutching a sheaf of papers. He’d have made his way forward with a cheerful word but for her red-rimmed eyes and sad countenance. From all appearances she’d been crying. The last thing he wanted to do was impose on a woman dealing with some kind of grief, but he longed to rush forward, gather her in his arms, and comfort her.

Millie’s warning echoed in his mind. Leah had enough to deal with. She didn’t need anything more. He hadn’t planned on bringing unhappiness or anxiety, but it was very possible that intruding would do so, even if he wasn’t delivering bad tidings.

He could face down a charging bull in a pasture or a grumpy boss at the bank, but the prospect of facing Leah’s tears unnerved him. Not that he hadn’t dealt with plenty of his mother’s tears over the years, but this situation was different. He’d worked to accept Ma’s sorrow—he had his own to deal with after his sister’s disappearance—and somehow learned to comfort her.

But his mother wasn’t this young woman who made his heart rate increase each time he was around her and at other times raised his ire and made him want to stomp back to town. He had yet to figure out how he could be attracted to someone who could so easily frustrate him.

He started to swing away when Leah beckoned. All indecision disappeared. Steven strode toward her, his heart lifting at her slight smile. She had to be grieving the passing of her mother, but after her initial start at seeing him here, she’d offered a welcome. He couldn’t ask any more.

Steven stopped a stride from the edge of Leah’s skirt and bowed his head in a brief greeting. “I’m sorry to intrude. I planned to return to the ranch as soon as I realized …” He wanted to kick himself for calling attention to her tears. “That is, I didn’t mean to imply …”

Leah shook her head. “It’s all right. I’m sure I look a sight, so there’s no need to pretend you didn’t notice. Has something happened at home to bring you out here?”

He removed his hat, ran his hand over his hair, then stuffed it back on, jamming it hard over his forehead, all thoughts fleeing of why he’d come. Why did her eyes have that effect on him? “Everything is fine.”

“Oh? So you were out for a walk and stumbled across me?” She gave a pointed look at his boots. “I thought cowboys—or bankers, for that matter—didn’t much care for walking.”

Steven grimaced. “Millie mentioned you might be up here, and it wasn’t far enough to merit saddling my horse.”

Leah leaned back, her hands braced in the deep grass near the base of the tree. “You asked Millie where I’d gone? If everything is fine at the ranch, why would you?”

He held a tight rein on his emotions. She wasn’t making this easy.

A hawk flew over, then folded its wings and dived toward a spot on the knoll a hundred feet or so away. Quick as a flash his talons extended and he snatched a field mouse from the grass, then winged his way back into the sky.

Steven stared after the magnificent creature. “What would it be like to soar on the wind, without any cares?”

Leah smiled. “He has plenty of cares. More than likely a full nest of babies and a wife that chases him away every time he tries to land and relax. You might also ask, what would it be like to be the field mouse?”

She cocked her head to the side. “What kind of cares do you have, Steven?” She patted the grass beside her. “You’re here. You might as well rest those feet and sit awhile.”

He looked askance at the spot Leah indicated, then back at her. “You’re sure you don’t mind?”

“I wouldn’t have invited you if I did.” The words had a hint of sadness, but the curve of her mouth softened it. “Please.”

He lowered himself onto the springy grass. “Thanks. I should be asking you that question, as you appear troubled.” He glanced at the box in her lap and the folded paper now tucked beneath it. “Not bad news, I hope?”

“A ghost from the past.” The words escaped on a sigh. “One that might better have stayed buried.”

He hesitated, uncertain how to respond, and not sure she’d want him to speak, even if he knew what to say. The statement didn’t seem to require a response, and her sad expression didn’t invite more questions. He sat quietly and silently prayed, asking the Lord to heal her heart and give her peace.

They had both lost a sibling for a number of years—had both experienced the pain of a mother who was no longer there to meet their needs. He’d gotten his sister and mother back, only to feel as though he’d lost his mother again. Leah’s brother had returned, to disclose that Leah’s mother had deserted her years ago, then died before they could make peace.

Pain rippled through Steven’s heart. The minutes stretched on and he heard her gentle sigh. He clasped her hand, drawing it toward him. Somehow he needed to help this wonderful woman find a way to deal with her pain and forgive those who had hurt her, as he realized he must do in his own life.

He’d waited too long and allowed resentment to build in his heart toward his mother—and even his sister—and now he understood what God wanted him to do.

Forgive. Let it go.

Understand that his mother had given all she had to give while he was growing up, and Beth wasn’t at fault for disappearing and holding his mother’s heart captive.

Finally, Leah bowed her head and squeezed his hand.

He returned the gesture, then slowly released her, not certain how much liberty was appropriate. She was obviously hurting, and he hoped to bring comfort, but the last thing he wanted was to take unfair advantage.

During these few minutes, he’d never felt closer to a person, never felt such a flood of peace and … love. But this wasn’t the proper time to speak. Leah needed to walk through whatever was troubling her, whatever had brought her to this place and etched the sadness in her face.

She turned and looked him directly in the eyes. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“Your kindness. Your silence. For taking the time to care and sit with me.”

He gave a slow nod. “It’s the least I can do. But if you want to talk …”

Leah smiled, but her eyes were like dark pools, reflecting her sorrow. “It’s not like you came to listen to my troubles.”

Steven squared his shoulders. “Actually, I did.”

Her fingers went to her throat. “Excuse me?”

“Millie told me you’ve been dealing with a lot lately, between the problems with your pa and Tom and things needing to be done on the ranch. I thought you might appreciate a sympathetic ear.”

He held up a hand, suddenly aware she might not understand. “Not that you have to share anything, mind you. I can continue to sit quietly, if that’s what you prefer. Sometimes having a friend nearby who cares is enough.”

Chapter Twenty-Two

Leah could only stare, not sure she’d heard correctly. She’d never known a man this sensitive, who could feel her mood and be willing to do what was best for her. Even on his good days before Ma left, Pa hadn’t known how to deal with Leah’s emotions or outbursts. “Thank you for that sweet offer. But if you don’t mind, I’d prefer to talk.”

Steven silently gave a nod of assent, his gaze trained on her.

Leah tried to think. Where to begin? How much should she tell this man? She felt that she’d only scratched the surface on getting to know him, but what she’d seen so far she liked—and trusted. Would he understand the tug-of-war she felt concerning her mother and father, and all the inner turmoil this letter had stirred? There was only one way to find out.

She slipped the letter from under the box and handed it to Steven. “I think this will explain better than anything I can say. Would you mind reading it?”

He took it reverently but didn’t open it. “Are you sure?”

Again amazement quieted her thoughts. Most people would be more than willing to read a private letter and possibly discover some secret they could pass along to their friends. “If you don’t mind.”

He opened the letter and bent over it, taking his time and perusing each page carefully, before moving on to the next. After several minutes, and returning at least once to a page, he folded it and placed it back in Leah’s hands. “That must have been very hard for you to read.”

Leah closed her eyes, only now realizing how much she’d hoped for such a response. “Yes.”

“I’m so sorry, Leah. Sorry that your father put you in this position, and that your mother didn’t tell you the truth before she left.”

His words soothed the turmoil inside. The confusion and anger began to subside, and calm took their place. “That’s the thing I find the hardest to understand. Why didn’t she tell me herself? Why leave a letter and hope that I’d find it?” She turned to face him, searching deep within his expression, praying he’d have the answers she so desperately sought.

“You feel that she deserted you.” Steven didn’t ask, he stated it as a fact. “And I suppose to some degree, she did.” He plucked a blade of grass and examined it, then tossed it aside. “May I speak plainly?”

The question took her by surprise, but she nodded. “Of course.”

His eyes met hers. “Parents can desert you even if they never leave.”

She frowned, not certain what he was saying. She flicked a finger against the letter. “I beg your pardon? My mother left.”

“I know. But do you think she’d have been the kind of mother you needed if she had stayed?” He waited a moment, then plunged forward. “Let me explain by giving you an example. My father died, and at the same time, my little sister, Beth, disappeared. The grief almost killed Ma. I knew, deep in my heart, that I wasn’t enough to keep her going. She pushed through and lived because of her determination to find Beth—not because I needed her.

“I lost both my parents that day. Ma withdrew inside herself for years. I became the caretaker in some respects, even though she married again a few years later. When my stepfather died, she crawled back into the black hole of despair.”

Leah mulled over his words, then leaned forward. “But she didn’t leave you. She stayed. She didn’t run off trying to find Beth.”

“She would have if she’d known where to go and if we’d have had the funds to travel. Please don’t misunderstand. I love my mother, but as surely as if she had run down the trail after Beth or curled up in the grave beside my pa, I lost her. I didn’t get her back until the day we found Beth.” He hesitated and turned his eyes away.

Leah touched his fingers, sensing his unease. “But you’re still not happy. There’s more?” She withdrew her hand, longing to keep it there to comfort him, but afraid if she grasped it, she’d not let go.

“Yes.” He gave a harsh laugh. “It sounds weak, coming from a grown man. I got her back, only to lose her again. To Beth.”

Leah gasped. “But you love your sister! I thought you were happy to find her. Are you bitter she came back into your life?”

He shook his head. “I’m sorry if I gave you that impression. I do love her, very much. God worked a miracle when He returned her to our family, and I’m grateful. But it’s like Ma is almost afraid to let her out of her sight for fear she’ll disappear again.

“Maybe I should be grateful that I no longer have to care for Ma all the time, or be responsible to rouse her from her melancholy moods. But somehow I thought once we found Beth, life would become normal for all of us.”

He grimaced and gave a wry chuckle. “I’m not so sure I know what normal is anymore.” He turned toward Leah. “I didn’t mean to talk about myself. I told you that to say, although you have a parent in the house, it doesn’t mean they aren’t absent in other ways. Your ma left you behind, but the words she wrote tell me she did it because she thought it was best for you—she truly loved you.”

“Then why didn’t she take me with her?” Leah whispered the words.

“Could you have been happy living in Portland, away from the ranch and the life that you loved? Even if you were with your mother, wouldn’t you have resented her for taking you away?”

Surprise coursed through Leah. Would she have come to resent Ma if she’d forced her to move? “But what if she hadn’t made me go—if she’d let me make the choice?”

“You were fourteen. Could you have chosen between your mother, and the ranch, and your pa? And if you’d gone with her, how long would it have been before you begged to come home, then grew bitter if she refused to come with you?”

Leah scooted back against the tree trunk, stunned. Was it possible her mother had understood her that well, had known that the choice would have cut her heart in half? “But what about Pa? He lied. He should have told me Ma was alive, not let me think she’d died.

“That was wrong. It was cruel! He could have at least told me after the two years were up. There’s no excuse for him to keep the knowledge to himself, and then to start drinking and abandon me as well.”

“I agree. He shouldn’t have lied, as your mother shouldn’t have. But do you think it’s possible that both of them were trying to protect you in their own way?”

She stared at him, not quite taking in his words. “No, that doesn’t make sense. Lying doesn’t protect someone. It hurts them.”

“It does, but that’s not always the way our minds work.” Steven reached out an inch or two and touched her, then withdrew, resting his hand on the grass near hers.

It took all of Leah’s willpower to sit still and not move her hand sideways. When he’d released his hold earlier, she’d wanted to snatch it back and never let go. This time Steven’s slight movement had seemed involuntary, but was it really an accident that his fingers were so close she could feel sparks jumping between them?

Almost as though he sensed her thoughts, Steven enclosed her hand in his again.

Warmth coursed through Leah, and she closed her eyes, savoring the sensation. Oh, to feel like this all the time. To have the comfort of a man’s touch … no, not any man. Steven. She didn’t want this to end. Not ever.

Steven gave her fingers a gentle squeeze, then released her, placing his elbows in the grass and leaning back. “Your pa might have understood how much it would hurt you to know your ma left. I’m sure he worried that you’d want to run after her and knew how unhappy you’d be if you did. And I’m guessing his own heart was hurting from his wife leaving him. He might have been afraid of losing his entire family.”

Leah blinked a couple of times, her own sense of loss accentuated by the emptiness she felt as she linked her fingers together in her lap. Had Steven once again held her hand only to bring comfort? Did it not mean anything more to him?

She worked to remember what he’d said. Pa afraid? Pa hurting and unhappy? Sure, she’d seen him drunk plenty of times. Anger and bitterness were common emotions, but fear or pain? She’d never even considered those as a possibility for Pa. “When I thought Ma had died, I knew Pa was upset, but I never saw him cry for her. I always wondered why he didn’t.”

“I imagine he’s like most men. If he loved her, he’d be hurt, and his pride would be smashed to bits.” Steven scratched his cheek. “In fact, I wonder if that’s why he drinks so much. If he loved her, he’d think himself a failure as a man, because he couldn’t keep his wife happy and at home.”

“Ma said he loved her, and she never loved him.” She turned and looked at him, realization dawning. “Her letter said she told Pa she’d consider putting the deed to the ranch in his name. He worked hard all these years, caring for the land. Pa thinks the ranch belongs to him.”

Steven pursed his lips, then let out a long whistle.

Leah stared at the ground for a minute. Finally, she lifted her head and tried to keep her voice steady. “When he finds out, he’ll drink even more. Maybe he was trying to protect me when I was young, but I’m a woman now, and I haven’t seen anything change. I’m sorry, Steven, but I don’t believe Pa cares more about me than about the ranch, or he wouldn’t have lied.”

She gathered her skirts around her and pushed to her knees. “I appreciate you coming to check on me, and especially for taking time to share your thoughts, but it’s probably best that we get back. I’ve left enough things undone today.”

Steven stood and extended his arm. “Let me help you up.”

His warm fingers gripped hers again with a gentle firmness that sent her heart pounding. When was the last time a man had touched her this way? With deference, kindness, and even—dare she allow herself to dream—a touch of personal interest? But it went even further, beyond the physical.

Somehow Steven had managed to reach into her soul. She felt it starting to open, starting to trust for the first time in years. He was someone she could share her heart with.

And maybe, just maybe, someone she could trust not to leave her and walk away, as so many others had done.

He helped her to her feet and retained his hold. Her heart continued to hammer, and she smiled up at him, willing him to kiss her. Praying he was starting to care in the same way that she was.

“Thank you. I’ve gotten out of the habit of wearing dresses and hardly know how to walk in one anymore.”

Those were not the words she wanted to say. She longed to pour out her heart—to ask if he’d sought her out because Millie had urged him to or because he’d been drawn to her. Instead, all she could manage was to prattle about her clothing.

He took a step back and released her. “What now?”

“I beg your pardon?” All she could think of was losing the warmth of his touch and the security it had brought for those few moments. “Now? I don’t understand.”

“As you said, Charlie assumes the ranch belongs to him, but it is legally yours. What will you do? Tell him the truth?”

Her heart stuttered and jerked before it accelerated to almost twice its normal pace. Tell Pa the truth? She had a pretty good idea what it would do to Pa when he discovered Ma had left the ranch to her. It might be the final blow. No doubt he’d drink more than ever, but how would he treat her? But if she didn’t tell him, she would be guilty of keeping a secret from Pa, as he’d done with her.

A secret that had the power to wound him, possibly almost as much as when Ma left. Maybe her father had feared the same thing would happen if he told her the truth about Ma leaving—that Leah would be hurt beyond repair. By revealing this secret, would she lose her father as well as her mother?