Nora heard the last of Cade’s call as she walked into the barn. He must not have seen her yet because he slumped down onto the weathered bench against the wall and closed his eyes as he leaned his head back.
“You okay?” she asked, taking a tentative step toward him. She’d never seen him look so defeated.
He opened his eyes but seemed to stare right through her. “I just got hung up on by Amber’s dad,” he said, pushing his phone back into his pocket. “He told me not to come to the funeral tomorrow and that they’re going to fight me for custody of Allie.”
Nora was stunned. “They can’t do that. You’re her father.”
“Not a very good one. And apparently that’s up for debate. Didn’t you hear Diana? All I am to Allie is her sperm donor.”
“She doesn’t really think that.”
“Yeah, she does. How many times has she called me SD? And I told her I thought maybe it stood for Super Dad. I’m such an idiot.”
“You’re not an idiot. This is just a temporary setback. You just need to get back on that horse and try again.” She offered him a small encouraging smile, but his expression remained somber.
“Not this time.”
“What do you mean? Aren’t you going to go after her?”
“What’s the use? She’s better off without me.” He bent forward and cradled his head in his hands. He looked broken, and it was tearing Nora’s heart out.
“That’s crazy. You’ve spent all this time trying to teach us how to cowboy. Now it’s your turn to cowboy up and go get your daughter.”
He shook his head. “Don’t you get it? She doesn’t want to be a cowboy. And she doesn’t want me. I knew this would happen. I’ve been pretending I knew what I was doing. Like I finally understood how to be a parent. But I knew she’d eventually see me for the shit dad I am.”
“I don’t get it. You don’t sound like the man I thought you were.”
He lifted his head to look at her, the pain in his eyes almost shattering her. “That’s because I’m not. You keep trying to see something in me that it isn’t there, like with that stupid coyote. But I’m not someone you can count on, Nora. So you might as well leave too.”
She took a step back, his words slicing through her. “Leave?”
The hurt in his eyes shifted to something harder, as if his defensive walls had just raised back up and slammed into place. “Yeah, leave. Go home. Allie’s gone. There’s nothing left for you here.”
She reached behind her, gripping the side of the workbench for support, as she fought to take a breath. She’d done it again, jumped in with both feet and gotten involved with a man she barely knew. Although she did feel like she knew him. Like her heart knew him. So she’d given it freely to Cade, believing he’d take care of it.
But now she didn’t know what to believe. He’d acted like they had something real and now he wanted her to leave? Just. Like. Geoff.
How could she have fallen for this again? She’d thought Cade was different. That they really had something. But once again she was wrong.
Apparently, Cade really was like that coyote. She’d seen them both as wounded and hurt and had extended an offer of friendship, but the animal had shown just that morning that in the end, he was still a coyote.
Her chest ached as she tried to make sense of what was happening. Cade had been trying to change. She knew that. She’d seen it. But what if he couldn’t change? What if he was right, and she was just trying to see something in him that wasn’t really there?
Cade pushed up from the bench, straightening his back as he huffed out a breath. “I’m done. I’ve been bending over backward trying to prove I’ve changed, that I can be a better man. But apparently I’m never going to change. So you’d better go too. Get out now. I can’t be trusted to stick around so you should leave before I leave you.”
She reached out a hand to touch his shoulder as he strode by her, but then pulled it back.
“I’m going for a ride,” he said without turning around.
“Cade,” she whispered, but he was already halfway to the barn.
She sagged against the garage door as she watched him walk away. Please come back. She pressed her fingers to her mouth, holding back the tears as she prayed for him to turn around and ask her to stay. To be the man she knew he could be. To prove that he had changed and that he wanted a life with her and his daughter in it.
But he didn’t turn around. He kept walking. Which told her all she needed to know.
Once again, she’d blindly stumbled forward, throwing herself into a situation she thought was one thing but turned out to be another. She’d thought she and Cade really had something, that his feelings for her were real, and that they had been falling in love. But apparently, she was the only one who had been falling, and now she was holding out her hands, scraping them against the sidewalk, tearing up her heart as she fell on her face.
The barn door slammed as Cade disappeared inside. She turned toward the bunkhouse, the place she’d been calling home, and wanted to cry at the sight of the stupid tray of iced tea and cookies she’d set out on the porch. How had everything fallen apart so quickly?
A few hours ago, she’d thought she’d had everything—a place to call home and a chance at love and having a real family.
Now she was back where she started, brokenhearted and retreating to her mom’s basement again.
***
Cade dug his heels into the horse’s side, spurring the animal to go faster as they galloped across the pastures. Leaning forward, he drove himself and Gypsy to push harder, as if he could outrun all the pain and heartbreak of the last hour.
It was hard enough to accept that Allie had left him. Now he’d lost Nora too. And it was his own damn fault. He’d pushed her away.
He’d been falling for her—correction. Had already fallen for her. And he had it bad. But it would never work. He wasn’t the kind of guy who could be counted on. Hadn’t Amber told him that enough times?
But Nora isn’t anything like Amber.
Maybe she really did see something in him. He hadn’t even given her a chance to say anything. He’d just told her to leave and walked away.
He pulled on the reins, turning the horse around. Maybe there was still a chance they could talk things out. He’d told her to go, but what if she’d stayed and wanted to help him get Allie back? What if she hadn’t given up on him too and was still waiting for him back at home?
Home? That was something he never believed he’d get the chance to have.
But maybe, with Allie and Nora…
Except he was too late. His battered heart shattered again as he galloped back into the ranch and saw Nora’s car was already gone.
***
The traffic was light on the drive down the pass the next morning, but Cade still felt irritable and grumpy. His head hurt and his eyes were gritty from lack of sleep. He and the puppy had been up most of the night—both of them restless and missing Allie. Scout had whined on and off for several hours before finally crashing on the pillow next to him. He understood the feeling. He’d felt like crying too.
Once the puppy wore herself out, then the bunkhouse had been too quiet—the silence emphasizing the fact that Allie and Nora were both gone. Sleep had eluded him as his mind raced with all the things he should have said and done the day before and all the things he was going to try to do today.
All the tangled thoughts in his head came down to one focus. He loved two women, and if he wanted them in his life, he was going to have to do what Nora said—get back on that horse and try again. He woke up with a determination and resolve that had him rushing through his morning chores, anxious to get showered and on the road.
He was going after Allie. And Nora. But he needed to focus on Allie first. He knew the funeral today would be tearing her up, and he hated the thought of her hurting.
He glanced down at the puppy who lay curled in the seat next to him, her head on his lap, and hoped seeing Scout would bring her a little joy. He hadn’t given much thought as to what he’d do with her when he got there—he hadn’t really been thinking at all. He’d just been acting.
He had thrown in a little puppy crate of Bryn’s, but he didn’t really want to leave her in the truck the whole time. He’d called his cousin on the way down the mountain and after a few minutes of discussion, it was agreed that Milo and Mandy could skip the service and puppy-sit.
He told her he might be late, but Bryn assured him the kids could wait in the vestibule until he got there.
There was a scattering of cars in the church parking lot as he pulled in, but he didn’t see any people. He’d purposely arrived just as the service would be starting so he could avoid running into Amber’s family. Not that he was afraid of them. He didn’t give a rat’s ass about Ed’s threats or his warnings to stay away from the funeral. He just didn’t want to cause a scene before the service.
He didn’t want to cause any more pain or discomfort for Allie—today was going to be hard enough on her. Which was why he knew he had to come. The first step to showing Allie he had changed and that he’d be there for her was to show up. And despite the events of the day before, wild horses couldn’t keep him away. No pun intended, he thought ruefully.
He eased the puppy off his lap and brushed the dog hair from his pants. The church door opened, and Mandy and Milo came out and ran toward him.
“You’re just in time,” Milo said. “It’s about to start.”
“Thanks for doing this,” he told the kids. “I didn’t want to leave Scout in the truck by herself.”
Mandy had already climbed into the cab of the truck and had the still-sleeping puppy curled in her lap. “Don’t worry about us,” she assured him. “This is easy. And I doubt the service will even last an hour.”
“Her dish is on the floor, and there’s a bottle of water in the seat. You might want to give her some when she wakes up. And you can always come get me if you need me.”
“We got this,” Milo said, pushing him toward the building. “Now get in there before you miss it.”
Cade waited until he heard the organ music, then slipped into the back of the church. His boot steps were silent on the thick carpet as he entered the sanctuary and eased into the last pew.
It had been a while since he’d been in a church, and he took it as a good sign that he didn’t burst into flames as he crossed the threshold. He felt guilty that it had been so long, and he hated that Amber’s funeral was what had brought him back.
It felt the same though. The plush red velvet cushions on the pews, the stained-glass window above the choir loft, the little pencils and offering envelopes tucked neatly next to the Bibles in the pew pocket, and the swell in his chest as the organist reached a crescendo in the hymn she was playing. The smell of roses filled the air, along with the faint lemon scent of wood polish.
A few bouquets of flowers decorated the front altar. Cade spotted the plant he and Nora had ordered and had delivered to the church. It had been Nora’s idea. He would never have thought of it. But he was pleased to see their contribution, even if the thought of the little card reading both their names together had emotion choking his throat.
That wasn’t the only thing choking him up. There was also the sight of the silver urn surrounded by a modest but elegant spray of white roses on the table in the center of the altar. Even from his spot in the back, he could clearly see the photo sitting next to the urn of a smiling Amber. They’d had their differences, but he would have never wished this on her.
He was surprised to see such a small gathering of people at the front of the church. Although Amber didn’t have much family. Ed, Diana, and Allie were in the front row, and he recognized a couple of her cousins and their families sitting behind them. A handful of people he didn’t recognize filled the rest of the rows on that side.
Allie looked so small in the long pew, her shoulders bent forward and her chin almost touching her chest. She wore a simple black dress and had switched out the pink splint she had on the day before for a dark-colored one. Her eyes were red and swollen, and her hair was pulled back into a tight braid down the back of her head. Diana must’ve done it because it was the opposite of how Allie liked her hair. She was always harping on Cade about how she liked her braids and ponytails looser, so they didn’t give her a headache.
His chest burned at the thought that he finally felt like he knew his daughter. Or at least knew her well enough to know how she liked to wear her hair. And that she preferred honey with a peanut butter sandwich instead of jelly, but if there was only jelly, grape was her favorite. He now knew that she liked cozy socks and blue nail polish and dangly earrings and purple pens and anything related to the world of Harry Potter. He knew she preferred the outer edge of the cinnamon roll over the gooey center, poured about a gallon of syrup on every pancake, and hated mayonnaise.
They hadn’t been together long but they’d learned so much about each other in the last few weeks. They’d even laughed and had fun together. They were finally building a real relationship. And he didn’t want to give that up.
Just like he didn’t want to give up the place he’d finally found—for both of them and, hopefully, Nora too in Creedence. He was touched to see the pews on the other side of the church filled with their new Creedence family. Bryn and Zane sat in one row with Aunt Sassy and Doc Hunter next to them. Nora sat solemnly in the pew behind them, squeezed between Jillian on one side and Elle and Brody on the other.
He stared at the back of Nora’s head, willing her to turn around. He caught her profile as she turned to whisper something to Elle, and a queasiness fluttered in his empty stomach.
Bending his head, he prayed that he hadn’t lost the daughter he was just getting back or the woman he was just beginning to love. He prayed for God to give him the right words to say to show them both he had changed. And he prayed he would have the strength to stay and fight for them, even if they both pushed him away.
He looked up to see Allie had turned in her seat and spotted him. He raised his hand in a small wave. She didn’t wave back, but the hint of a sad smile turned the edges of her lips.
***
Just as Mandy had predicted, the service lasted just under an hour. Cade slipped out as the minister was giving the benediction. He checked on the kids and the puppy first—they were doing fine. Scout had woken up, and they’d given her water and been running around with her in the grass.
They were going to do a small reception in the church basement after the service, so he knew it could be a while before Allie was finished. After letting them play a bit more, he sent the kids back in and put the tuckered-out puppy in the crate. He’d parked in the shade under a tree and rolled the windows down, figuring she’d be okay on her own for a little bit.
Keeping the truck in sight, he walked back to the church and settled his back against the wall, determined to wait for his daughter.
The reception didn’t last long. Several of the parishioners left right after the service and others must have given their condolences, then left soon after. If he knew Bryn and her bunch, they were probably clearing plates or in the kitchen cleaning up.
The front doors of the church hadn’t moved in the last fifteen minutes. Cade was surprised when one of them swung open and Allie wheeled out.
She looked around, then turned the knee scooter when she spotted him and took a few rolling steps forward. “Grandpa said he told you not to come.”
Cade shrugged. Not the greeting he was hoping for, but at least she was talking to him. “Regardless of what he may think, your grandfather’s not in charge of me. So I don’t care what he says. But I do care about you. How you holding up?”
This time it was her turn to shrug. “Not great. This sucks.”
“Yeah, it does. I’m sorry, kid.”
“I know. That’s what everyone says.”
A woman in a gray coat hurried back from the parking lot and up the steps as if she’d forgotten something. She yanked open the door and rushed through, heedless to them standing there.
Allie took a step back to let her pass. As the door closed, the back wheel of the knee scooter teetered on the edge of the top step, then fell over. Allie tried to overcorrect but lost her balance as the momentum of the knee scooter propelled her backwards. Her arm pinwheeled as she fell backward.
Cade saw the whole thing happen as if in slow motion. And it was like she was four years old again and falling down the stairs.
But this time, he was paying attention. He leapt forward, knocking the scooter out of the way as he slid onto the stairs as if he were a runner sliding into home base. But instead of earning the run, he reached out and caught Allie as she fell into his outstretched arms.
Hugging her to him, he pressed his lips to her forehead, kissing the scar that had been created the last time she fell. “I got you. I caught you this time.” He pulled back and brushed her bangs away from her forehead. “I didn’t catch you before.”
“I know,” she said. “Mom said that’s why you left. Because I didn’t mind you and stay in the living room where you told me to. And then I fell down the stairs and got hurt.” She stared down at her lap. “I know it was my fault you left.”
“What? No. It was my fault. I wasn’t paying attention, and you got hurt.” What kind of bullshit had Amber been feeding her?
“But then Mom said you stayed away because I was too much trouble, and you didn’t want the responsibility.”
Cade drew his fingers into a fist as anger swirled through him. How could Amber put that on Allie? He shook his head. “No, that wasn’t it at all. You were never too much trouble. I guess it’s sort of true that I didn’t want the responsibility, but not how you think. You got hurt because I wasn’t a good enough dad. I didn’t feel like I was responsible enough to keep you safe.” Amber didn’t think so either. She’d done everything in her power to keep them apart. He wished he could tell Allie that. But he wouldn’t talk bad about her mom now that she was gone.
“Mom didn’t think so either,” Allie said, twisting the frayed ends of the friendship bracelet from Mandy she still wore. “I know she kept me away from you.”
He blew out a breath, not sure what to say.
“But you still could’ve tried harder. You could have done more to try to see me or call me.”
He nodded, guilt settling into his stomach like a thick rock. “You’re right.”
“You always made me feel like everything else was more important than me. Especially the rodeo and all your stupid horses. That’s all you talked about when you did see me.”
“That’s because I didn’t know how to talk to you. I’d never had a kid before. And I knew I was letting you down, so I got so damn nervous every time I was around you. I didn’t know what to say, so I just rambled about my horse and the stupid rodeo.”
A flicker of movement had him lifting his head to see Nora standing in the doorway of the church. She stood motionless, one hand pressed to her mouth, the other to her heart. His eye caught hers and a ripple of hope fluttered inside him as their gazes locked. She didn’t smile, but he still felt that bone-deep connection they had. Like she knew him better than anyone else ever had.
He wasn’t sure how long she’d been there or how much she’d heard. But Allie had just said she felt he put everything else above her, so as much as he wanted to call Nora to them, he needed to keep his focus on his daughter.
“You scared me yesterday,” Allie said quietly, fumbling with the clasp on her splint. “When you got bucked off that horse. And then you blacked out. You really scared me.”
“I didn’t mean to. I was just doing my job.”
“I know. But you can’t do stuff like that—dangerous stuff. Stuff that could get you killed. That’s why I called Aunt Di. Because it freaked me out. I’ve already lost one parent.” Her breath hitched and tears swelled in her eyes. “I can’t lose another.”
“Oh, honey,” he said, pulling her close and hugging her to his chest. “Nothing’s going to happen to me. Listen, I’m so damn sorry about your mom. I would do anything to bring her back for you. But I can’t. What I can do is be there for you. I can be your dad. Finally. If you’ll let me. I know I haven’t been much of one the past several years, but I want to change. I want to be there for you. To help you with your homework and to teach you how to ride that book-loving horse. I want us to be a real family.” He smiled down at her, trying to convey his feelings.
He swallowed, emotion burning his throat as he waited for her reply.
Allie tilted her face up to look at him. “Me too. But not just us. Nora too. For the last week and a half, you and me and Nora have practically been inseparable. The three of us have always been together, laughing and helping each other—like we’re already kind of a family. But today all three of us were apart. It felt bad. You guys weren’t even sitting together. I know I was miserable. And you and Nora both looked awful too. It just seems to me that the three of us do a heck of a lot better when we’re together than when we’re apart.”
“I agree.” He looked up, the smile already on his face, ready to call Nora over to them. But his smile fell.
She was gone.