Reclaimed (19 page)

Showered and pleasantly exhausted, Suzanna dropped onto the porch swing hung from the rebuilt cover attached to Paul’s small house. She was thankful Andrea had told her to bring a change of clothes.

The kids had all been sprayed down and were running around the house, shouting and laughing as they had been from the moment they’d first arrived. There was something magical about the place. Time seemed to slow, and the atmosphere could only be described as peaceful joy.

Everything about the Kents, and Paul, seemed peaceful. Tom and Andrea’s home exuded peace from the front porch to the back patio. And Paul’s river property… oh goodness. Life must be good here.

Paul appeared from around the corner, coming from the barn west of his house. He’d insisted the girls use the shower first. No doubt, his would be cold by the time it was all said and done. If he minded, it didn’t show. Suzanna couldn’t imagine that he did.

“Turned out to be a good day, don’t you think?” He smiled as he took the two steps up the porch.

Suzanna felt her cheeks rise. “It did. Thanks, Paul.”

He put a hand on the chain that held the swing. “I’m sure I still stink, but do you mind?” He nodded down to the seat.

Suzanna scooted over, and Paul dropped beside her. The chains moaned as he pushed off the floorboards, setting them both into a gentle rock.

Paul leaned back and exhaled, his shoulders dropping as he relaxed beside her. “Best seat in the house. Or out of it.”

She nodded. “Spend much time out here?”

“At the river property or on this swing?”

Suzanna tipped her head. “Both, I guess.”

“I’m here probably three months out of the year, but not in a row.” He kicked his legs forward, stretching them as they continued to sway. “I’m down quite a bit for calving. We try to time it so I’m done up north before the season starts down here, but sometimes it’s off. I have full-time hands down here, so it works out. This year I was here extra long in August because I had some fencing that needed more work before I could move the cows onto fall pasture. And then this”—he jerked his thumb back toward the working yards over the hill—“takes a few weeks. Moving, sorting, loading.”

“Sounds like it keeps you busy.”

He nodded. “It’s a life and a job all at once.”

Suzanna laughed. “You love it.”

Paul turned his eyes on her. “You can tell?” He chuckled, not waiting for an answer. “Yep. I think I told you before, it’s the life I tried to run away from, and yet the life I love. Grandpa told me before he died that it was in me. Not in my blood, but in my head, my heart. I think he was right. I can’t imagine doing anything else.”

Keegan tore around the corner with his sisters close behind. “Uncle Paul! I saw a fish jump!” He hopped onto the step. “Can we go down to the dock?”

Paul lugged himself up. “Sure, buddy.”

“Yes!” Kiera pulled a fist down like a football player after a touchdown.

The kids turned and sped through the yard. Paul stepped from the porch and stopped, twisting at the waist to catch Suzanna’s attention. He jerked his head toward the water. Suzanna laughed, but she didn’t need to be asked twice.

The mowed grass ended fifty feet from the house. A worn path cut through the native grass, which stood almost to Suzanna’s knees. The trek down to the pond felt like an adventure through nature. She glanced at Paul as they navigated down the slope. He looked like he’d shed about twenty-five years, and she could picture him with a fishing pole and overalls, skipping down the way. Something like Opie on the
Andy Griffith Show
. It made her giggle.

“What’s that?” Paul slowed his steps so she came parallel to him.

“Nothing.”

“Nope.” He shook his head. “You laughed. Share the joke.”

“No joke.” Her ponytail bounced against her neck as she shook her head. “Just an image. It’s very Mayberry.” She passed her hand in front of her as if the scene were a canvas.

Paul smiled. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

Suzanna bounced her head and then studied him. They neared the bank, and the trail jetted left. A small dock bobbed on the water, its gray boards protruding into the reflection of the evening sky. Water rippled beneath it, lapping against the shore with a gentle smack. A cool breeze overruled the silent invitation to swim, though it could not halt the draw of the view.

“Why don’t you live here?” Suzanna stopped where the path met the dock, turning her eyes back to Paul.

He grinned a little, and his head dropped back as he surveyed the scene. After inhaling deeply, his shoulders relaxed. Suzanna didn’t need to ask; this was his favorite place on earth.

“It is something, isn’t it?” His eyes fell back to her, twinkling with pleasure.

It wasn’t much of an answer. She stared at him, her eyebrows pulling in.

Paul left the path and moved ten feet onto the bank before he dropped onto the grass. Not knowing what else to do, Suzanna followed, settling an arm’s length away from him. He kicked at the dirt under his boot, freeing a pebble from the pale soil and tossing it into the water.

“Fish!” Keegan shouted. He dropped onto the boards of the dock, stretching himself on his belly and pointing to the water.

Kelsey and Kiera scrambled from their posts on either side of the dock to see Keegan’s find. They joined him on their stomachs, and all three scouted the water’s depths.

Paul laughed. “That’s why.” His head dipped toward the kids.

Suzanna’s attention snapped from the kids back to the cowboy beside her, not understanding.

He met her questioning gaze, the smile crinkles around his eyes adding to the appeal of his handsome face. “I love it here, but it wouldn’t amount to much without them”—his hands fluttered back to the kids—“without my family. I love that I get to see those kids grow up. I love that I can keep an eye on my parents, that I can help take care of them as age begins to take its toll. Tom was my best friend growing up, and being near him, watching him love and take care of my sister, means more to me than I can say. A pretty view can’t replace that.”

Mayberry indeed. Family devotion, born of honest love and raised with sincere affection.

The serenity of Paul’s haven vanished like a thin fog over the mountains. A lonely reality sank heavy inside Suzanna’s stomach. She moved her eyes from his, not wishing for him to see her unhappy regret.

His gaze didn’t waver, and she could feel the intensity of his stare as it settled over her. Eyes that were gentle beckoned her back, confusing her with his kindness. It was safer to be angry than vulnerable. When she couldn’t take the weight of his silent appeal, she came to her feet.

Paul remained in his place. “Why do you do that?”

She knew better than to meet his eyes, but her gaze wouldn’t heed her warning. That silent promise called to the depths of who she was, and who she didn’t want to be.

Empty promises. He couldn’t fill the loneliness life had carved into her soul. He would try, and he would fail, and she would be more broken than before.

Suzanna turned away, scanning the tall grass for the footpath back to the house.

Paul came to his feet, his movements calm and intentional. “Time to head back up,” he called to the kids. “Your mama will be about ready.”

Led by Kiera, the trio scrambled to their feet and left the dock at a run. Their short legs took to the path, and they bobbed through the prairie grass back up the hill.

With a last glance back over the water, Suzanna followed. Paul stopped her with a hand on her elbow.

“What do I say that makes you do that?”

She tugged at a seed head, twisting it in her fingers. “Do what?”

“Shut down.”

Her heart began to throb. Refusing to look at him, she plucked another blade of grass, peeling it apart in narrow strips.

Paul stepped in front of her and stilled her fingers with his hand. “What is it, Suz? Do I offend you?”

Suzanna stepped back, pulling her hand away. “No, you don’t offend me. It’s nothing.”

“It’s something.” He stood rooted, his frame blocking the path. “I can’t figure it out. I thought maybe I was too pushy, but I wasn’t demanding anything from you just now. How can I upset you in every conversation we have? Surely you know I don’t mean to.”

“I know.”

A breeze dropped over the northern rise and stirred the trees, pulling yellowed leaves from their branches and setting them afloat over the air. Inspired by their flight, birds left their perches, dipping and turning as they waltzed with the leaves. Suzanna let her attention wander, envying the freedom to let go, to fly.

Paul waited with patient silence. Words built in her mouth and forced their way out.

“Being with your family makes me resent mine.” Steamy tears burned against her eyelids. Her cheeks felt hot as shame tumbled in her gut.

Paul didn’t flinch, didn’t move. His eyes didn’t grow in surprise or darken with disapproval. His silent appraisal didn’t hint reproach. “Do you want to tell me about it?”

His low, soft voice felt like a warm cotton blanket on a cold, stormy night. A tear slid down Suzanna’s nose as her heart grasped at the comfort.

“I don’t know where to begin.” Her throat closed over against a sob. She brushed at the stray tear with the sleeve of her oversized sweatshirt.

“Where’s your mom?”

She cleared her throat. “Loveland, south of Fort Collins.”

“Do you see her much? I mean, before you moved?”

“No.”

“Why?”

It was too late to turn back. She’d allowed this conversation, and bottling it up again felt impossible.

“She left us.” Suzanna could feel her face harden. “When I was eighteen she filed for divorce. She’d had an affair with her horse trainer for several years before she finally told my father she was leaving him. Said she’d done her duty, their kids were raised, and it was time she lived the life she wanted.”

Paul slid an arm around her shoulders, pulling her close against his side. “I’m sorry, Suzanna.”

She sniffed, but the tears could not be held. “It wasn’t like we were an awesome family. It shouldn’t have surprised me or hurt so much. I’d seen some things that weren’t right, and our home life was rocky most of the time. But… but she just left. No remorse, no apologies. Actually, she felt completely justified, relieved that she could finally do what she’d wanted to do for years.”

Memories pressed hard and replayed against her will.

“Stop acting like this is a tragedy, Suzanna.” Mother’s voice pierced as though the words were fresh. “I’ve sacrificed my happiness long enough. I raised you girls. You’re grown now, and it’s my time to be free. You need to grow up about this. God wants me to be happy.”

“Were you close, you and your mom?”

Shutting off the memory, Suzanna snorted. “Never.”

“How did your dad handle it?”

“He quit preaching.” Suzanna stared past Paul into the horizon.

She hadn’t expected her dad to stick around, couldn’t blame him for leaving, but his retreat left her orphaned. A fresh rush of tears spilled from her eyes. “He said he couldn’t expect to lead a congregation when he couldn’t manage his own home, so he resigned and moved out here.”

Paul stepped back enough to make eye contact. His blue eyes beckoned her to trust him, to spill everything. The agony of her family ripping apart and all of the things that followed.

And Jason.

Could she tell Paul about Jason?

“Did you ever talk about it?”

“No.” She dropped her gaze. “Daddy just took it, swallowed it, and kept it buried deep.”

He rubbed her shoulder with his thumb. “Kind of like his daughter?”

Suzanna had nothing for that. She stepped away and rubbed her eyes, forcing the rest of her tears back where they belonged.

Paul let her go and pushed his hand into his pocket. “Can I tell you something?”

She shrugged, waiting for the clichéd “God knows best” speech. She shouldn’t have told him. The hurt was easier to manage when she didn’t have to listen to how God planned all of this, and everything would turn out all right in the end. It wouldn’t. There was absolutely no way it could. She hated her mother. For all the years of trying—and failing—to meet with her approval. For her unfaithfulness. And for blaming her unhappiness on her,
her daughter
, for heaven’s sake.

And though she rarely admitted it, because it was a horrible truth, she resented her dad for leaving. He didn’t even try to fight, if not for his marriage, then for his family. He didn’t try, and the ugly truth was, he’d let them go long before any divorce papers had been signed.

Daddy knew about the affair. There just wasn’t any way he couldn’t have known. Mother wasn’t that sneaky, and using her daughters’ lessons as a cover to see her lover was a flimsy veil. The most expensive stables along the Front Range suddenly waived their boarding fees? And the owner, and prestigious trainer, Mr. William Pembroke, is suddenly willing to give not only Mother but both of her girls free lessons?

Doesn’t happen. Not without some strings somewhere. Daddy knew, or he should have known, and he did nothing. For years, he did absolutely nothing.