The birthday party had been a pretty big success thanks to Prince the pony. Wyatt sat back in the lawn chair and watched some of the last visitors leave. He smiled at the sight of the poor pony with pink and purple ribbons in his mane and tail. That had been Rachel’s idea. It had seemed pretty goofy to him, to do that to the poor pony. The kids had felt differently about it. Little girls loved ribbons. He’d have to remember that.
Little girls loved pink cakes and balloons. They loved pretty dresses and dolls, even when they were cowgirls with ponies and stock dogs. Rachel had taught him that about his daughters. She had taught him a few things about himself, too.
Someone sat down next to him. He turned and smiled at Robert Waters, Rachel’s father. The older man smiled back and stretched long legs in front of him. He wore his customary slacks and button-up shirt.
Wyatt glanced down at his own khaki shorts and leather flip-flops. He smiled at Rachel’s dad.
“Glad you were here.” Not so glad to hear that you’re leaving. Since that wasn’t common knowledge, Wyatt didn’t mention it.
“Wyatt, Rachel told me that she shared with you that we’re leaving. The elders know and a few others. I’ll make the announcement tomorrow.”
“I’m sorry to hear that you’re going.” Wyatt let out a sigh and shook his head. “The church hoped you’d stay a long time.”
“You know as well as I do that we can never make plans for God.” Robert crossed his left leg over his right knee, still relaxed, always relaxed. He was about the calmest man Wyatt had ever met.
“Yeah, things do happen without our permission.”
“Have you given any more thought to the youth ministry? When I asked you to do that, I didn’t know we were going to be leaving. I guess God did.”
“I’ve thought about it. And yeah, I think I’m ready. I still have moments when I question God. He could have stopped her.”
“No one blames you for that. I imagine we could all put together a list of things we question God over. Why someone we loved died in a car accident or why someone had to die young. And the only answer is that sin entered the world and we are allowed free will. We make choices that change lives.”
Wyatt fought a real strong urge to say something about this move and if it was really what God wanted or was he giving Pastor Waters freedom to choose, right or wrong. But he knew that Robert Waters was a praying man. He didn’t make hasty decisions. He followed what he felt God wanted for him.
He didn’t want this man to leave. But maybe it really had been God’s plan to have Pastor Waters in Dawson for this season to do the things he needed to do here before moving somewhere else where God had another plan.
“This isn’t going to be an easy move for us.” Pastor Waters sighed at the end of the sentence and shook his head. “Rachel loves Dawson. She loves taking care of your girls.”
“They love her, too.”
Pastor Waters glanced his way and smiled. “I guess you’ve asked her to consider staying?”
“I have, but she won’t.”
“No, I didn’t figure she would.”
Family issues, everyone had them. For Wyatt it was all about making his girls his first priority. His parents had never made that a rule. For his parents, life had been about parties and what made them happy. Their two boys were pictures they showed when they wanted to brag about something other than money or the land they owned.
He’d never be his parents. He ran the family business from a distance and his girls came first. Especially now.
Across the lawn Violet and Rachel were cleaning up the leftover party favors, the empty cups and paper plates that were blowing off the picnic table. They talked in quiet whispers like two old friends.
That scene made him a little itchy on the inside, so he turned to search for his girls. They were swinging, feet dangling and party crowns still on their heads. Molly had the biggest crown, the queen crown. And each girl had pink satin ballerina slippers.
He’d never seen so much pink in one place.
“I think I’ll go check on my girls.” He pushed himself out of the chair, wincing a little at the catch in his ribs and the pull across his lower back. He’d never been so glad to see a horse go as he had been to watch that buckskin loaded into the trailer yesterday afternoon.
He would have kept the animal around if Ryder had been able to take over training for a week or two. But they both had different priorities now.
“Molly, did you have a good birthday?” He stood behind his daughters, pushing one and then the other.
“The bestest one ever.” Molly looked back at him, smiling big.
His gaze traveled the short distance to Rachel Waters. The bestest ever. He decided to feel a little angry with her and with God because she was going to leave them empty again.
Last night he’d had to tell the girls. They’d both cried and Molly had begged him to make Rachel stay. She wouldn’t, he’d explained. She had responsibilities. Molly asked him what that word meant. He’d had to find a way to explain it to a four-year-old.
Things that matter. Responsibility is the things that we have to do because they matter, they come first. Family, the farm, a job. Those were responsibilities. Molly wanted to be Rachel’s responsibility.
The things that come first.
Rachel laughed, the sound carrying. He tried to picture this yard, this house and their lives with her gone.
They’d be empty again.
He gave Kat an easy push. No, they wouldn’t be empty. They would still have each other. And they’d have something else. They had the ability to move on and to laugh.
* * *
Two weeks after Molly’s party, Rachel walked through a ranch house on the outskirts of Tulsa, just a few blocks from her dad’s new church. The church was larger than any he’d ever pastored. The benefits were clearly the best. It was something wonderful for her parents. It meant having a real retirement and security.
It meant great medical care.
It meant Rachel moving into a small bedroom with purple carpet and green walls. Obviously a teenager had been here. Rachel felt a little dizzy, standing in the center of that room.
“It’s a nice little house.” Her mother stood at the window looking out at the tiny little yard. Rachel didn’t want to look. She knew what she’d see outside that window. She’d had views like this before.
She would see other houses, back to back, side to side. She would see privacy fences and manicured shrubs. There would be a patio and eventually patio furniture. Her dog would go on a leash and they’d take walks around the neighborhood. They would talk to strangers who would possibly become friends.
They would adjust. They always did.
And she would live this life until? Until her parents no longer needed her. She smiled at her mom, who hadn’t looked this happy in a long time. The idea of a big church with a large staff had taken a burden off her mother.
Gloria Waters wouldn’t feel guilty, as if she was letting her husband or his congregation down because she couldn’t take a more active role in the ministry. Rachel wanted to tell her mother that they had her, she took that burden. She carried that weight for them.
Cynthia, her sister, had called that morning as they drove into Tulsa. She had given Rachel a lecture about being a martyr because she didn’t want to take chances in life. It was easy to stay with their parents, to not get involved in real life.
Rachel had ended the conversation with a blunt “Goodbye.”
It was easy for Cynthia. Life had always been easy for the pretty blonde with the stick figure and the outgoing personality. Cynthia had married her college sweetheart. She’d never been rejected.
Her dad stuck his head around the corner. “Nice room.”
Rachel smiled. “Love the colors.”
“I thought you would.” He stepped into the room. “You can paint if you want.”
“I know.” She smiled, pretending to love the idea of painting another room.
She would be thirty in a few months. Thirty and living with her parents. What did people think? Did they think she was somehow defective? Did they get that she wanted to be here to help?
“Let’s take a walk around the neighborhood.” Rachel’s dad reached for her hand. “I think there’s a pool down the block.”
“Dad, I’m not fifteen.”
He laughed a little. “Yeah, I know. But swimming is great exercise. You can jog one day and swim the next.”
She remembered this from her teen years. Her parents always broke the news about moving by telling them how great the new place would be. Eventually Rachel stopped caring. She stopped seeing the moves as an adventure. It became about having to learn a new school, make new friends and reinvent herself each time.
She no longer reinvented.
But she did go for a walk with her dad. He held Wolfgang’s leash and they took their time, letting the dog sniff all of the new scents.
“Rachel, have you prayed about this move?”
“What do you mean?”
He stopped while the dog took particular interest in a sign post. “I mean, have you prayed for yourself? Is this move what you’re supposed to do?”
“Dad, we’re here. I’m here.”
Her dad continued to walk and she stayed next to him, whistling to get the dog’s attention when it appeared a little too interested in a neighbor’s cat. That wouldn’t be a good way to start this new life.
“Rachel, I want you to make a decision based on what you want.”
“What I want is to be here helping you and Mom.”
“I’m not sure about that. I kind of wonder if you aren’t sacrificing your own happiness because of some sense of duty to your mother and me.”
“You’ve been talking to Cynthia.” Rachel took Wolfgang’s leash because she needed to control something. Her life was obviously out of the question.
“I talked to Rob and Cynthia. They’re both concerned that you’re giving up what you want because you feel as if we need you.”
“That’s nice of them.” The brother and sister who visited once a year suddenly knew what was best for her and for their parents.
The thought was unfair, but at the moment she didn’t feel like being fair.
“Rachel, I’m about to do something I should have done a long time ago. I’m pushing you from the nest.”
“Pushing me?”
She wasn’t stupid, but seriously, where had this come from?
“Rachel, years ago God called me to this ministry. He called me. He called your mother with me. We had children. Now our children are grown and it is time for you, my daughter, to find your own place. Your mother and I can take care of ourselves. We took care of you. We really are able to handle life.”
“But when Mom is sick...”
He smiled and she felt ten again. “Rachel, I’m her husband. I can take care of her. Go and live your life, make your own choices. When I took this position I knew it was right for me, right for your mother. I think you have to pray about the right place for you.”
“Here.” She held tight to the leash and fought tears that burned her eyes.
“If that’s what God’s plan is, fine. With us, in Tulsa, or back in Dawson, it doesn’t matter as long as you know it’s the right place for you.” He kissed her cheek. “Go do something for yourself, Rachel. Eat chocolate, find something you love. Or someone you love. Stop using us as an excuse to avoid your own life.”
“Ouch.”
He laughed a little. “Sorry, but the truth can hurt. You pray and if, after you pray, you honestly feel like it is God’s will for you to move here, then I’ll accept that.”
“I’m starting to get a very big hint.” The hint that her parents would like to be alone.
“I thought you might.”
Right, so where did that leave her?
* * *
Wyatt backed the trailer up to the corral gate, watching the side mirrors as he eased back. He stopped when the open gate hit the back of the trailer. Perfect.
The dog that had followed next to his truck started to bark. Wyatt turned off the truck and watched Rachel’s car easing up the drive. He let out a shallow breath, still not taking deep breaths because his ribs wouldn’t give that much. He stepped out of the truck and waited for her to get out of her car.
He hadn’t expected her today. For the last week she’d been packing, loading boxes and getting the church staff ready to take over her many jobs. They didn’t have a new pastor, not yet. Wyatt and a few other men had prayed about the decision. For now they’d take turns preaching, just until they could find the right man.
The dog left his side and ran to hers, tail wagging. Rachel reached to pet the animal. It followed her back to him. He glanced toward the house. Violet was inside with the girls. She’d been interviewing housekeepers. So far he and the girls hadn’t liked any of the candidates.
“I didn’t expect to see you today.”
She shrugged one shoulder and didn’t look directly at him. Her brown hair blew around her face and her expression seemed a little lost to him.
“I hadn’t expected to stop. I missed the girls and wanted to give them something I bought in Tulsa.”
“They’ve missed you, too.” He almost included himself, but he wasn’t going there.
What did he miss? Her pancakes, coffee that didn’t taste bitter, or music blasting as she cleaned?
“Do you mind if I go in and see them?”
“No, go ahead. I have to load some calves that we’ve sold.” The reason he’d backed the trailer up to the corral. The bawling calves were huddled in the far corner of the corral.
“I could help you.”
“I can get it.” He tried not to move like someone who needed help. She laughed at his attempt.
“Let me help. I’ll miss this.” The faraway look returned. “We’re moving into a neighborhood where our view is of the neighbor’s back door.”
“I’ve lived in those neighborhoods. It works for a lot of people. I guess it’s a good thing we’re all different.”
“Yeah. So I can help?”
He pointed her to the gate. “I’ll head them this way. You make sure they don’t squeeze through there.”
She nodded and headed for the spot he pointed to. She wasn’t country at all, just wanted to be. That was okay with him. He enjoyed watching her standing there in her denim shorts, a T-shirt and sandals. Not exactly a picture of a cowgirl, but he didn’t really know what a cowgirl was supposed to look like. He’d seen a few in his time that looked like anything but.
The calves moved away from him. His dog circled, keeping them together and moving toward the trailer. One angus steer tried to break from the group, the dog brought him back, nipping quick at the steer’s hooves.
Ahead of him, Rachel stood next to the gate, her hand shading her eyes as the sun hit. He didn’t smile, couldn’t. He was picturing her in that house surrounded by neighbors.
The calves ran through the opening into the back of the trailer. He swung the trailer door, swinging the latch in place. The calves moved to the back of the trailer.
Wyatt slid through the gate. Rachel moved out of his way.
“You don’t have to go.”
Her eyes widened and she stared, waiting. He didn’t know what to say other than what he’d said. He lifted a hand and rested it on the side of the trailer.
“I kind of do have to go. I don’t have a home here. My parents are moving.”
“Rachel, the girls don’t want any other nanny. They already miss you and you’re not gone.”
“Of course, I know they’ll miss me. I’ll miss them, too. But I feel like I need to be close to my parents. If my mom gets sick, I need to be there.”
“It isn’t that far. What is it, just under two hours to their new church?”
“Something like that. But if she’s sick, she needs daily help, not a visit.”
“Right, you’re right.” He let it go because he did understand her loyalty to her parents. He got it.
“I’m going to go see the girls. I want them to know that I’ll visit.”
He smiled and tipped his hat. “Yeah, visits are good. I have to get these steers on down the road.”
She turned and walked away. He watched her walk through the back door of his house and then he climbed in the truck and cranked the engine. He eased forward, watching in the rearview mirror as the corral gate swung shut. The trailer shifted as the cattle shifted.
In the house Rachel was telling his girls goodbye. Why did he have the sudden urge to hit something? It combined with a pretty nasty urge to turn the truck and stock trailer around.
And do what? Beg Rachel to stay? What would he tell her? He could tell her that his girls were happier with her in their lives. He was happier.
After that, what then? He would have her in their home as a housekeeper and nanny. She would cook for them, clean their house and hug the girls. He’d still have to deal with moving on.
Last night he’d pulled out photo albums. He’d glanced through pictures of Wendy in college. They were young and in love. Crazy in love.
He rode bulls and roped steers. She spent weekends working at a homeless shelter. They’d picked youth ministry together. After college they’d gotten married.
The pictures stayed happy for a few years, until after Molly’s birth. That was when the story of their lives changed. He’d looked at those pictures and tried to figure out what he could have done.
But he couldn’t change things. He couldn’t undo them now. What he had was a future with his two little girls and memories of their mother. Someday he’d share the good memories.
None of that fixed the situation right now. Rachel was going to leave and Violet was hiring a new housekeeper. She’d talked about a lady named Thelda Matheson. He hoped she wore joint cream.