The Promise of Forgiveness (12 page)

T
hursday afternoon Ruby stood on the front porch, eyeing the dark wall of clouds to the west. There had been a threat of a summer storm in the Panhandle every day since they'd arrived the previous week. A gust of wind churned up the dust in the yard and tiny bits of grit pelted her face.

How could Mia call this hostile land
home
?

Three days had passed since she and her daughter had visited Guymon, and each morning Ruby had woken with one thought in mind—she wanted to leave Oklahoma and Mia wanted to stay. Finding a compromise that would please them both was impossible when there was nothing between
stay
and
leave
but miles of brown, dead earth.

But if the Devil's Wind was the one place that would give Ruby a fighting chance to win her daughter back, then how could she force Mia to live somewhere else?

You can't
.

Ruby went into the house, sat at the piano in the parlor, and tapped a yellowed key. She'd taken music lessons from first through fifth grade. Her parents hadn't owned a piano, but their next-door neighbor, Mrs. Olson, had allowed her to practice on her piano in exchange for a free haircut each month from Ruby's mother. Her fingers were rusty, but after two tries she stroked the right keys and sang . . . “Twinkle, twinkle, little star . . .”

“Didn't know you could play.” Hank stood in the doorway.

“I took lessons when I was in elementary school.”

“Cora taught herself.” He wandered closer. “She'd play at night after the sun went down.”

Ruby ran her fingertip over the edge of a key, imagining a connection with her birth mother that wasn't there—had never been there.

“I bought paint for the nursery.”

“What color?” she asked.

“White.”

“Would you like my help?”

“If you've got nothing better to do.”

She choked back a laugh. He knew she was bored out of her mind. Maybe she'd win points with Mia for spending time with Hank. She followed him out of the room, noticing the way he swung his left leg out to the side when he climbed the stairs. “What's wrong with your hip?”

“Got a kink in it.”

He must have a lot of kinks, because he teetered more than walked when he moved around. While he caught his breath on the landing, Ruby opened the nursery door. Hank had set the supplies in the corner next to a tarp and a toolbox. “What do you want to do with the baby furniture?”

“Store it in the attic. Mia might need it one day.”

“Don't go marrying your granddaughter off and having her with babies anytime soon.” She loved her daughter, but Mia hadn't been planned. Ruby shuddered to think about the decisions they would have faced if Mia had become pregnant after sleeping with Kevin.

Hank grabbed a screwdriver and began taking apart the crib. One by one Ruby carried the pieces into the attic. The top story was crammed with dusty boxes, mismatched furniture, a bicycle, and a leather trunk tucked away in the corner. The trunk wasn't large—maybe four feet by two feet. She dropped to her knees and peered at the faded gold letters across the front. C-O-R-A. What had her birth mother left behind? Photos, clothes, or family mementos?

Hank hollered into the opening, “You find that big rat that lives up there?”

“Ha-ha. Real funny.” She descended the ladder. “There's an old trunk in the corner.”

“Cora told me not to open it.”

“And you never peeked inside?” His willpower must be as strong as the pump jacks that pushed oil out of the ground.

He opened the paint can and set the lid aside. “Figured she wouldn't have left it behind if she hadn't intended to come back for it.”

Ruby's heart hurt for Hank. For the first time since she'd arrived at the Devil's Wind, she wasn't angry or pissed off at him—she was miffed at Cora.

What makes you think you're any better than Cora? You've been with lots of men.

But Ruby hadn't abandoned Mia after she was born.

“I'm sorry, Hank.” Who better than Ruby to apologize for her birth mother—the apple not falling far from the tree and all that crap.

“You've got nothing to be sorry for.”

She wouldn't say that. She'd done plenty during her thirty-one years that needed forgiveness. “Did you buy wallpaper stripper?”

“I picked out a new border to cover the old one.” He handed Ruby the package.

“Zebra print?”

“The lady at the store said it was popular with teenage girls.”

Hank was changing the room for Mia. Not Ruby.

“She'll be fine with it.” He could do no wrong in his granddaughter's eyes. “Hand me the tarp.”

While she spread the plastic sheet across the floor, Hank poured paint into a tray and began rolling a wall. Ruby filled a smaller dish, then dropped to her knees and cut in the baseboards. “When are you supposed to see the doctor again?”

“Don't remember.”

The old coot needed someone to look after him.

“Mia said you two might not move to Kansas.” Hank pushed the roller faster across the wall.

“My daughter informed me that she's not leaving here.”
Ever
. “I can't very well go to Kansas without her.”

“You're the mother. You should decide where you live.”

“Mia forgets that I'm her mother.” No one had to tell Ruby that she'd lost credibility with her daughter.

“You're welcome for as long as you both want to stay.”

“We're stuck here until I come up with a plan Mia agrees to.” She knelt in front of the closet door and painted around the trim. “In the meantime, I need a job, but I don't have a car to get to and from Guymon.”

“You don't have to work.”

Yes, she did. She couldn't stand around and watch Hank and Mia grow closer. Besides, being with her daughter 24-7 was stressful. The other day they'd taken a big step in their relationship, but Ruby didn't want to push too hard, too soon.

“You can use my truck to go wherever you want whenever you want.”

Speaking of the old jalopy, she should have purchased a new tire when she and Mia were in Guymon on Monday. “Has Kurt from the gas station called yet?”

“Nope.”

“I'll drive into town in the morning and check on the tire, then see if anyone's hiring.”

“You don't want to work in a town full of men.”

“I'll be fine.” Besides, any job in Unforgiven would be temporary, and she'd feel better staying close to the ranch in case anything happened to Hank. For someone who intended to keep her biological father at a distance, it was funny how he factored into all of her plans. She refilled the tray for Hank and added more paint to her bowl. “Can I ask a question that might make you uncomfortable?”

He nodded.

“Did you think of me through the years? Or did you just remember me on my birthday?” Assuming he remembered her birthday at all. He might have blanked out the date.

“Not a day went by that I didn't wonder how you were being treated. Or if Cora had found you.”

“If she tried to see me, I never knew about it.”

“The adoption counselor said we could ask your parents for permission to contact you.”

“Did you try?”

“Didn't see any point.”

Seriously
? “I was your daughter.”

“You had a new family and I didn't want to get in the way. Besides, when you turned eighteen, I figured you'd track me down.”

But she hadn't, because her parents had kept her adoption a secret. None of this made sense—it just frustrated Ruby. “When I didn't find you, why didn't you look for me then?”

“I assumed you wanted nothing to do with me.”

“Then why after so many years did you suddenly decide to search for me?”

Hank stopped rolling. “A scare with death makes a man think about his life. His regrets. I wanted to see you before it was too late.” He dropped his gaze. “I wanted to apologize for not being able to keep you.”

Ruby's lungs pinched closed. It would be so easy to say
I forgive you,
but then she'd have to accept that she was the only one responsible for the choices she'd made in the past.

“What were you like when you were Mia's age?” Hank asked.

“Better behaved.”

“Doubt that. You two butt heads every which way you turn.”

“I was a good kid until the age of sixteen. Then I began running with the wrong crowd. I skipped classes and got caught smoking in the girls' bathroom.”

“What did your folks do?”

“My mother and I argued all the time about curfew and grades.”

“Your father didn't step up and rein you in?”

What did Hank know about stepping up when all he'd done until now was step aside? “My dad worked overtime hauling construction materials all over the country. When he did come home, he hung out at a bar and drank with his buddies rather than referee fights between me and my mother.” It hadn't always been that way. Ruby's father had been the one she'd listened to and turned to for advice. But they'd drifted apart after he'd canceled their summer road trip.

“Did you straighten out?”

“Not until I discovered I was expecting Mia my senior year. I don't know if it was pregnancy hormones or that Dylan refused to marry me, but I settled down.”

“You didn't drop out of high school?”

She hadn't expected it to matter, but she was pleased he was interested in her childhood. “I graduated despite all the kids staring at my big belly.”

“I regret not earning my diploma.” At least the lack of a high school education hadn't prevented him from making a good living.

“It wasn't easy,” Ruby said. The ridicule and pitying looks from her peers and teachers had stung, but she'd put on a brave face, determined to earn her diploma. Back then she hadn't realized her actions had made her parents the subject of gossip—especially her mother, who styled the hair of every Chatty Cathy in the town.

“What did your folks say when they found out about Mia?”

“They were disappointed. But when I quit my wild ways and hit the books, they grew excited about becoming grandparents. My father cut back on the overtime.” Glen Baxter had spent a month of Sundays putting up a fence around the yard. He'd wanted to make sure his grandchild didn't wander into the road and get hit by a car. It was sad that Mia never had the chance to play in that yard. After Ruby's parents passed away, she'd been given two weeks to vacate the trailer.

“Hank?”

“What?”

“Now that you've seen how Mia has taken to the horses and Friend . . . do you think I'd have been happy growing up here?”

“Mia's a teenager, not a baby.”

“I wouldn't have stayed a baby forever. Maybe I'd have learned to love this place.” And the run-down house would have felt like
home
.

Hank set the roller aside. “You might have taken to ranch life, but . . . Never mind.”

“What?”

He pressed his lips together, then opened his mouth and expelled a loud breath. “It would have pained me too much to look at you.”

His confession stung.

“You're the spitting image of Cora. If I'd had to raise you and see your face every . . .”

His heart would break over and over. Day after day. Week after week. Month after month. Year after year.

Ruby had no idea what it felt like to love someone so deeply that in order to cope with the pain you had to give up your own child. “Do you regret loving Cora?”

Hank cleared his throat. “I'd rather live with heartache than have missed out on loving your mother.”

It was one thing to make that choice for himself, but did he realize he'd also made it for her?

You did the same thing to Mia when you sent Sean packing because he failed to return your text messages.

Ruby was tired of the stupid voice in her head baiting her. “After Mia was born, I gave Dylan a lot of chances. When that didn't work out, I decided I was done trusting men.”

Hank massaged his crooked knuckles. “How come?”

Did he really want to open that door? “It wasn't only Dylan walking out on me. My adoptive father gave me the cold shoulder after I turned sixteen.” She pointed the paintbrush at Hank. “And you handed me over to the state.” She didn't understand what she'd done to make them all turn their backs on her.

A shiny film covered Hank's eyes.

Horrified, she blurted, “You're not going to cry, are you?”

He turned his back to her.

Shit
. “I didn't mean to hurt your feelings.”
Yeah, right
. She'd wanted to lash out at Hank since he greeted her at the door with a shotgun.

“I'm sorry, daughter.”

Hank might regret that his actions had caused her pain, but if he could go back in time, Ruby was positive he'd make the same choices again.