Love Thine Enemy (15 page)

What had she said to upset him? She stood and placed a hand on his shoulder. “I’m sure you will.” She smiled and gave him a gentle shake. “Although, it’s just like a cowboy to fix up the barn before he fixes up the house.”

“Doris won’t let me touch the place. I’ve got a room down in the barn. I stay there and keep an eye on her. She’s gotten more peculiar in her old age. She was doing a little better until she saw you.”

Astounded, Cheryl said, “She saw me? When?”

“You were in Council Grove at the doctor’s office after that snowstorm. It’s a small town. It didn’t take her long to find out Hardin had a strange woman staying on his ranch. Doris kind of went off the deep end then.”

He turned to her and gripped Cheryl’s shoulders. “She doesn’t have anywhere else to go. She doesn’t have any money. She’s an old woman. I know she treated you badly when you were a kid—”

“Badly?” Cheryl jerked out of his hold and took a step away. “I can’t tell you how many times she took a belt to my back. Believe me, almost a year in the girls’ correctional facility was a walk in the park compared to life here.”

“She beat you?”

Of course, he hadn’t known. She’d never told anyone, and it wasn’t fair to blame him now. She crossed her arms and stared at the ground. “After Mom died and Doris came to live with us, you got your own place. And Dad was so drunk most of the time, he didn’t care. She and I didn’t get along from the get go. I was mouthy and surly and mad at the world. She couldn’t stand the way I acted out.”

“That didn’t give her the right to hit you.”

“After I came back from juvie, it got a lot worse. Doris blamed me because that stupid diary I kept was the reason Dad and you were caught and went to prison the second time.”

Jake shook his head. “The crimes we committed sent us to prison, honey.”

“The sheriff would never have known where we were if I hadn’t written about keeping the cattle out at the old Stoker place. If I hadn’t gloated about what we got away with.”

“I don’t blame you. I never did. I never should have let Dad drag you into the business in the first place.”

“I wanted to help. I wanted him to notice me, to love me. Kids will do stupid things to get noticed, won’t they? In the end maybe I was more like him than I thought.”

Jake drew her into a fierce hug. “No, kid. You’ve got too much of your mother in you to end up like him, or like me.”

Tears stung her eyes as she returned his hug. “Thanks, but I don’t think you turned out so badly,” she muttered against his shirt front.

He held her at arms’ length. “No, but it took me a long time to decide which way I was going to go. I met a good man in prison. He was a pastor and a counselor. He told me about God and about finding forgiveness. I’ve been trying to live the way he taught me. It hasn’t been easy. If Sam Hardin wants to find his missing cattle, tell him to look for a cowhand that was fired from the Double R about a week ago.”

“How do you know this?”

He gave her a wry smile. “The sheriff isn’t the only one who thinks I practice my old trade. Now and then I get offers.”

She managed a smile in return. “Thank you. Where is Doris? It’s past time she and I set a few things straight.”

“You just missed her. She left a little while ago with
a woman named Slader. They didn’t say when they’d be back.”

The earth shifted beneath Cheryl as a loud buzzing filled her ears. “Do you mean Merci Slader?”

“A tall redhead, doesn’t smile much. Hey, you’re as pale as a sheet. What’s wrong?” He steadied her with both hands.

“Oh no. I should have told him.” She pulled away from Jake and hurried to her pickup.

“Cheryl, wait! What’s wrong?” He followed her and laid a hand on the open window as she started the engine.

“I never told Sam who I really am. Don’t you see? They’ve gone to tell him about me. If he gets back before I do, he’ll know I kept the truth from him all this time. I’m sorry, Jake, I have to go.” She put the truck in gear and sped away.

Sam turned into his lane, and the image of Cheryl as he had last seen her flashed into his mind for the hundredth time. Had he imagined the regret and longing that had filled her eyes? He knew that he loved her. He couldn’t, wouldn’t, believe she didn’t love him in return. Had she left already? He didn’t know which he dreaded more, finding her gone or watching her leave.

When he pulled up in front of the house, he saw Merci Slader’s dark blue Sable parked beside it. What did she want?

Walter came out of the house as Sam stepped out of the truck. “That took you long enough. How’d it go?”

“Our report’s been filed. The sheriff wants to talk to the foreman at the Double R before he questions anyone else.”

“He’d better make it fast. The longer he waits, the less chance we have of getting our cattle back.”

“I know.” Sam stared at the front door of the house. He wanted to see Cheryl coming out to greet him, to tell him she’d made a mistake and she intended to stay. Something in his face must have given him away.

“She’s not here,” Walter said quietly, his eyes full of sympathy. “She borrowed my truck. Said she had an errand that couldn’t wait. Her sister called and left a message to say she was on her way.”

“I see. Where are the girls?” he managed to ask.

Walter looked around the yard. “I’m not sure. They were here a little while ago. I thought they had gone to the house, but they’re not inside.”

“Has she told them she’s leaving today?”

“Yes.”

“Did they seem upset?”

“Not when I saw them.”

“Maybe they’re down in the garden.” Sam shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “Well, Gramps. This is where you get to say, ‘I told you so.’”

Walter laid a hand on Sam’s shoulder. “I think I’d rather say I’m sorry it turned out this way.”

“Thanks.”

Walter nodded. “Merci Slader is waiting to talk to you.”

“I saw her car. Did she say what she wanted?”

“No, she wouldn’t talk to me. She has Doris Thatcher with her. Said you’d want to hear what the woman had to say.”

C
heryl parked the truck beside the barn. Sam stood on the front porch watching her. She crossed the distance between them with lagging steps, feeling her courage ebb away. She knew by the look on his face that she was too late. She could only pray that he would understand why she had deceived him.

She stopped at the foot of the steps. The silence stretched between them. She rubbed her palms on the side of her jeans. “Sam, I can explain.”

Merci stepped out of the doorway behind Sam. “I hope you enjoyed your little joke, Ms. Steele. Or should I say, Ms. Thatcher. You really had us fooled. There’s hardly a trace of the poor little country girl left.” Cheryl’s grandmother came out of the house and stood beside Merci.

“So it’s true? You’re a Thatcher?” Sam asked.

Cheryl’s heart sank at the sight of his expression. The pain and disbelief in his eyes told her more than words how much her deception had hurt him. “Yes, it’s true.”

Merci gave her a frosty smile. “You should have told
us who you were. You’re quite famous around here. It’s not every day a girl of twelve steals a semitrailer-load of cattle, and then rides down the officer trying to arrest her. Walter said you’ve had some cattle stolen recently, Sam. Perhaps Ms. Thatcher can explain how that happened?”

“I knew she was no good. She’s here to make trouble and nothing else,” Doris Thatcher announced. Dressed in a faded, black, shapeless garment, her gray hair drawn back in a tight bun, she looked every one of her seventy-odd years. “The sins of the father have been visited on his children. I tried to change them from their evil ways, but my words fell on deaf ears.”

Cheryl studied Sam’s face. Did he truly think she had helped steal his cattle? She straightened as she faced him. She’d spent a lifetime being ashamed of who and what she was—hiding from her own past. But she was more than Hank Thatcher’s daughter—a lot more. She was also Mira Thatcher’s daughter. Something she would be proud of until her dying day. If Sam Hardin didn’t see that after all they’d meant to each other, she wasn’t going to beg him to understand.
Lord, give me strength.

“Excuse me, I have to finish packing.” She marched up the steps, and the group at the top parted as she walked between them with her head held high.

She was halfway across the living room when Sam caught her arm and turned her to face him. “Why didn’t you tell me the truth?”

Pride kept her back straight when what she wanted to do was fall into his arms. “I started to a dozen times, Sam, but I knew how people would react.” She gestured toward the door. “Just like that. It doesn’t matter what I’ve done or where I’ve been for the last fifteen years.
All that matters is that Hank Thatcher was my father and that must make me a thief.”

“Cheryl, I don’t believe you had anything to do with my missing cattle.”

“Thank you. But others won’t be so kind. My mother was a good, decent woman who never hurt anyone. All she did was try to survive a bad marriage and shelter her children. For that, she never got anything from her so-called friends and neighbors except condemnation. I didn’t expect anything different.”

“I’m not condemning you, Cheryl, but I thought you trusted me.”

Cheryl heard the pain in Sam’s voice. “I do trust you, but try to understand. I wanted you to see
me.
I didn’t want who you saw to be colored by who I was. I never meant to hurt you.”

Her grandmother advanced toward them, her thin frame shaking with emotion as she yelled, “You should never have come back. I told your sister, and I’m telling you—go away. You can’t steal what rightly belonged to my son. The place is mine.”

Cheryl studied her grandmother’s worn face. She and Angie had escaped into new lives, but Doris Thatcher had stayed and faced the whispers and the snubs of this community all these years. She’d been in a prison as surely as Jake had been, only the bars were ones you couldn’t see. No wonder she seemed crazed by it all.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Grandma.”

“That’s a lie. You’ve come to drive me out of my home.”

Sadly, Cheryl shook her head. “No, I haven’t. I couldn’t, even if I wanted to.”

“Actually, you could,” a crisp new voice declared.

Every head turned in surprise as Eleanor Hardin walked into the room. Setting her suitcase on the floor, she crossed the room to stand in front of Cheryl.

“So you’re Sam’s ballerina. Oh, you’ve grown to look so much like your mother. I’m very glad to see you again, my dear.”

“Hello, Mrs. Hardin,” Cheryl whispered.

Eleanor turned away from Cheryl and faced the others in the room. “Everyone sit down,” she commanded in her usual brusque manner. “I want to hear the whole story from the start.”

Eleanor crossed to Sam. “Close your mouth, Samuel. You look like an astonished fish.” She reached up, pulled his head down, and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. “Did you miss me?” she asked softly.

“I wasn’t expecting you for another month.”

“Becky’s mother-in-law came to help out. The house wasn’t big enough for the both of us.”

“How is Becky?”

She flashed him a bright smile. “I think she was a little glad to see me go. Doris, don’t you dare leave,” Eleanor called as Cheryl’s grandmother gave a huff and turned on her heels.

“She can’t take my home!”

“She can if she wants it. That was the deal.”

Confused, Cheryl glanced from one woman to the other. “I don’t understand. What deal?”

“Tell her,” Eleanor commanded.

“It was blackmail, that’s what it was,” the old woman spat.

“Maybe, but Harriet was smart enough to make it legal.”

Cheryl stared at Sam’s mother in amazement. “You knew Harriet?”

Eleanor nodded. “Your mother, Harriet and I were close friends as girls together. Harriet’s parents died when she was a baby. She came to live with your mother’s family on the same ranch you grew up on. Your mother’s father was a wise man. He wanted to make certain that both girls were taken care of after he was gone. He had the ranch placed in a trust for them.

“Harriet strongly disapproved of your father, but Mira loved him, and she married him over everyone’s objections. She and Harriet had a falling-out over it, and Harriet moved to Philadelphia. She told me later that she regretted cutting herself off from Mira.”

Doris interrupted her. “The ranch should have gone to my son. He was her lawful husband. It wasn’t right that they kept it from him.”

“But it was smart,” Eleanor shot back. “Hank would have lost the place in no time.”

Cheryl struggled to understand. “You mean the ranch belonged to Harriet after my mother died?”

Eleanor nodded.

“And now?”

“It’s part of a trust that Harriet set up for you and Angela. Harriet was willing to let your father live on the ranch and raise you there. It wasn’t until after your father died, and I contacted Harriet with my suspicions about your grandmother’s treatment of you, that Harriet and I hatched this plan.”

“
You
contacted Harriet?”

“Yes. Your grandmother was your legal guardian, but Harriet owned the property. In exchange for transferring legal guardianship to Harriet, Doris was allowed
to remain on the ranch for the rest of her life, or until either you or Angela expressed a desire to return and live there.”

“The income I get from Harriet’s trust fund comes from the ranch?”

“That and other investments Harriet made. I thought you knew. Your sister knows about it.”

Cheryl nodded. “She would. She and Harriet’s lawyer were co-executors of Harriet’s estate. I was so wrapped up in my career that I never even asked where the money came from.”

No wonder her grandmother hadn’t wanted her to come back. She must have been afraid of being driven out of her home.

“The place is yours if you want it,” Eleanor said quietly.

“No,” Doris wailed. “She can’t have it. Where will I go?” She sank onto the sofa and began to rock back and forth.

Cheryl watched Sam turn his back to the room and stare out the window. She had thrown away her chance at happiness here because she’d been ashamed. She had lacked the courage to share her past with Sam. He had no reason to trust her now.

“I don’t want the ranch or any part of it,” she said.

Sam stared out the window feeling heartsick. When Merci had confronted him with Cheryl’s deception, all he could think about was how his wife had deceived him. How he’d been played for a fool again. Had Cheryl cared for him even a little? He didn’t know what to think.

“Let Doris and Jake stay,” Cheryl told his mother. “I have my career, and that’s more than enough.”

Sam shoved his hands in his pockets and closed his
eyes. He had his answer from her own lips. She didn’t want any part of them. Could he blame her?

“Are you sure? It was your home,” Eleanor said gently.

When Cheryl didn’t answer, Sam turned and met her gaze across the room. “I’m sure,” she said. “There’s nothing for me here.”

Walter walked into the room then, and stopped short at the sight of Eleanor. “What are you doing here?”

“I came home early.”

“Are the twins with you? I can’t find them anywhere.”

Sam frowned in concern. “What do you mean you can’t find them? When was the last time you saw them?”

“They watched me load cattle this morning,” Walter answered.

“The letters,” Cheryl exclaimed.

Sam turned to her. “What letters?”

Cheryl strode up to her grandmother. “You sent them, didn’t you? Where are the children? If you’ve hurt them—”

Doris shrank before Cheryl’s anger. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“What letters?” Sam demanded again.

“Someone sent me threatening notes, telling me to leave or I’d be sorry.”

“Do you still have them?”

Cheryl nodded. She hurried out of the room, returned with the papers and handed them to Sam.

He glanced at each sheet, then fixed his eyes on Merci. “What do you know about these?”

“Me?” She asked in obvious surprise.

“You were adamant about getting Cheryl to leave.”

Merci glared at him. “I know nothing about her notes. I came here today because I thought you should know the truth about that woman. I’d never threaten your children.”

Sam turned his gaze on the elderly woman on the sofa. “That leaves you, Mrs. Thatcher.”

“I don’t know anything.”

He advanced until he towered over her and held the letters in front of her face. “Did you send these?”

She cringed away from him. “I wanted her to leave, that’s all. She can’t drive me away from my home.”

“Where are my children?” he bit out.

Eleanor sat down beside the trembling woman. “Sam, calm down. Doris, tell us everything.”

Doris kept her eyes down. “I sent the notes, but that’s all. I haven’t seen your girls.”

Cheryl studied her grandmother’s face for a long moment, then sat down beside her. “You were very cruel to me. No child deserved to be treated the way you treated Angie and I.”

Doris glanced at her, but quickly looked away. “Your dad was an only child. My husband used to say I spoiled the boy, but I didn’t believe it. Then, look how he turned out. I was ashamed to call him my son, but I still loved him.

“I didn’t want you to turn out like he did. I thought I could beat some sense into you, but you were so stubborn. Then that stupid diary of yours sent him to prison. He died there! My son died without me by his side. You took away my son and now you want to take away my home.”

Cheryl sat back and stared at her grandmother. She
thought of all the fear and shame this woman had caused and she wanted to hate her, but all she felt was pity. She took a deep breath, hoping the right words would come. “The Bible tells us to forgive our enemies. I haven’t had much time to study it, but that was one message I did understand. I thought forgiving you would make me a weaker person. But it doesn’t. It makes me a stronger person. Someday, I hope we can find a way to get past the anger and bitterness of those years.

“I was a lonely, scared kid with no one to confide in, so I wrote down the things I couldn’t tell you or anyone. I was angry at the world and I wanted to hurt someone as much as I was hurting. I wanted my dad to pay attention to me so I did the one thing he was sure to notice. I helped him steal cattle from our neighbors.

“I don’t know how Angie found my diary or why she took it to school with her. I don’t even know how Mrs. Hardin wound up with it.”

Eleanor gave her a sad smile. “One of the boys at school, a bully, his name doesn’t matter, took her book bag and dumped it out on the playground. I saw what happened and came to help her pick up her papers. The book had fallen open to the last entry you had made. I couldn’t help seeing what you wrote. I
had
to tell the sheriff.”

“I know. I understand. Grandmother, you have my word that you can stay at the ranch for as long as you like, only please tell us where the twins are.”

“I don’t know. I don’t know.” She burst into tears.

Eleanor sat beside the weeping woman. “I believe you, Doris. It will be okay. Merci will take you home, now.”

“I’d rather stay and help find the girls,” Merci announced.

Eleanor raised one eyebrow. “You brought her here, you should take her home. I think you’ve helped enough for one day.” There was no mistaking the order in her quiet tone.

Merci helped the still-weeping woman to her feet and they left together.

“Sam, where could the girls be?” Cheryl asked, sick with worry.

He raked a hand through his hair. “A hundred places. Let’s spread out and check everywhere again. Check every cupboard and closet.”

Nodding, Eleanor and Cheryl began searching the house while the men searched outside.

“Anything?” Eleanor asked when they met up with Walter and Sam by the barn door.

“Nothing,” Sam said. “How could two little girls disappear without a trace? Has anyone else been here?”

“Only the cattle buyer,” Walter answered.

“How well do you know him?” Cheryl asked, her voice tight.

Sam looked at her in disbelief. “What are you saying?”