One afternoon, Ty was in his side pasture replacing a cracked fence post when he heard a child’s voice call out, “Mr. Wilkins!”
Looking up, he found Hannah waving at him. She and Allie were sitting on a woven blanket under a tall elm in the Whittakers’ front yard, with Morgan’s faithful Aussie shepherd, Skye, keeping watch over them.
Waving, he hollered back, “Hello to you, too. What’re you ladies up to?”
“Having a tea party,” she explained, lifting an old-fashioned china cup and saucer for him to see. “Would you like to come?”
Ty’s heart jumped at the invitation, and he took a moment to let it settle back down before he did something stupid. The girl had no idea who he was, he reminded himself sternly. To her, he was just a neighbor who happened to be within earshot. Still, the unexpected invitation to spend some time with his daughters gave him a warm, satisfied feeling he’d seldom experienced.
“I’d love to,” he finally replied, dusting his hands off on his jeans before stepping through the fence. “But only if you call me Ty like everyone else does.”
“But you’re a grown-up,” Hannah protested, a frown creasing her freckled cheeks. “We’re supposed to call grown-ups mister or missus.”
One of Morgan’s rules, he assumed with a chuckle. After sitting cross-legged on an unoccupied piece of blanket, he glanced around and then leaned in. “Can you two keep a secret?”
Hannah nodded immediately, eyes shining at the idea of being in on something no one else knew. Allie took a few beats longer, but she did the same, adding a curious look that he took to mean she was interested in hearing what he had to say.
“Okay, here it is.” Lowering his voice, he went on. “I’m not grown-up all the way.”
“You’re tall,” Allie commented in a serious voice that told him she’d taken him literally. Over the past few days, he’d done some research on autism, and he’d learned that was a feature of the condition. It came in a distant second to the fact that she’d responded to him directly for the first time, and without her usual hesitation. Knowing that he’d forged a connection with the reserved child—however slight—made him feel like he’d just scored a touchdown.
“Uncle Ryan and Uncle Ben are tall,” Hannah added while she poured something from her teapot into a mug imprinted with the Whittaker Ranch logo, which was a horse running past the outline of a mountain range. Handing it to him, she added, “But you’re even bigger than them.”
“And proud of it,” Ty said, saluting her with the cup before taking a cautious sip. When he discovered it was nothing but water and a dash of sugar, he finished it off in a single gulp before holding out his empty mug. “That’s the best tea I’ve ever had. Could I get a refill?”
She obliged him and then set the pot down in the center of the blanket. A partially eaten plate of cookies was there, too, and he noticed Skye staring at the treats intently. When she sent him a hopeful look, he snagged one and broke it neatly, tossing half to her before popping the rest in his mouth. “These are delicious. Did you girls make them?”
“Mommy did,” Allie told him shyly.
“You’re kidding.” She shook her head, and the unease that darkened her features made him want to kick himself. Very quickly, he said, “I believe you, honey. It’s just that I didn’t know your mom liked to bake.”
“Mommy says whatever we do together is fun for her,” Hannah informed him sweetly. A gust of wind blew through the yard, toppling one of the dolls that had come in for the party. She reached over to set the toy upright and patted her bonneted head in a maternal way she must have learned from Morgan. “There you go, Chantilly. Would you like some more tea?”
While she filled the doll’s cup, Ty looked around at his fellow partygoers. He counted a dozen dolls, four teddy bears and a stuffed something or other that was so ratty he couldn’t begin to identify it. Hoping to get an answer without sounding like a clueless adult, he said, “I haven’t met everyone here yet. Can you introduce us?”
“Sure,” Hannah replied, listing their names in a rapid-fire manner that she’d clearly inherited from her mother. The bedraggled member of the group was named Freddie, which didn’t help much in the classifying department. So, Ty swallowed his cowboy pride and asked what kind of animal he was.
“A koala,” Allie answered, stroking his furry head gently. “He’s from Australia.”
“Allie knows a lot about animals,” Hannah added proudly, smiling over at her twin. “When we read books about them, she remembers way more about them than I do.”
What a great kid, Ty thought. Whatever challenges Morgan had faced while she’d been raising them, she’d done an incredible job. He only wished he’d been part of the picture from the start. While his daughters traded girlie small talk, he stretched out on the grass and drank it all in, mulling over what had gone on before he knew they existed.
He’d missed so much, he acknowledged with a heavy heart. Their first smiles, crawling, walking, all those baby memories that his friends with children treasured and shared with him through one social app or another.
And then, he came to one that wasn’t so cheerful: the day they discovered that Allie had autism.
He couldn’t imagine how that had been for Morgan, to learn that her precious child would need so much extra care, special classes, endless patience. The cowgirl he remembered with equal parts fondness and exasperation had never been the easygoing type, but clearly time and necessity had mellowed that part of her.
At least where her kids were concerned, he recognized, grinning when he recalled the run-ins they’d had in the weeks since he’d come back to town. Around him, Morgan felt confident enough to be her old feisty self. Oddly enough, he didn’t mind her prickly nature all that much. So much had changed in his life recently that it was comforting to know there were still some things that had remained the same.
“Hey, guys.”
When he heard Morgan’s voice, Ty glanced over his shoulder to find her strolling up behind him. Her tone had sounded casual enough, but the set of her delicate jaw warned him that the temperamental cowgirl he remembered so fondly was very much alive and well. Hoping to defuse whatever had her riled up, he lifted his hand in greeting. “Hey yourself. Want some tea?”
The muscles in her cheek relaxed just a bit, but it couldn’t disguise the fury sparking in her eyes. Still, she managed to keep her cool as she sat down on the blanket opposite him. “Sure, thanks.”
While Hannah poured her a cup and Allie handed her a cookie, Ty was struck by the fact that a first-time visitor to the Whittaker Ranch would assume they were a nice, happy family taking time out in the middle of a warm afternoon for some snacks and lukewarm water in fancy teacups. If he hadn’t been so stupid all those years ago, this kind of scene could have been his reality instead of something he’d just stumbled upon by sheer good fortune.
But thanks to his stubborn pride, all he could do was wish for more.
“How’s it going out there?” Ty asked.
His lame attempt at conversation got him a scathing look. “We lost three calves to wolves last night, and there’s a section of fence down on the pasture we were planning to move some cattle into today. You?”
“Pulling rotted posts so I can replace them,” he replied, grateful to have something concrete to tell her. Spending his days cleaning and lounging had gotten old, and he felt better now that he was actually accomplishing something. Beneath the brim of her straw cowgirl hat, he saw the worried shadows around her eyes. Instinct told him that something beyond ranch concerns was bothering her, but he couldn’t begin to determine what it might be. She had so much on her plate, it could’ve been any one of a dozen things.
Then he heard the front door creak open and glanced over to see JD coming onto the porch, a glass of iced tea in his hand. He sank into one of the redwood rocking chairs with a tired sigh, leaning his head against the high back and closing his eyes. He sat there like that, holding the glass but not drinking anything, for so long that Ty started to wonder if he’d fallen asleep that way. Finally, he took a sip and set the glass down, linking his hands together on his chest before going back to his power-napping pose.
Slanting a look at Morgan, Ty realized she’d been closely watching her father since he’d emerged from the house. The worried expression she wore answered Ty’s question about what had been troubling her, and he hunted for a way to ease her mind without setting off her flash-fire temper.
“I’ve got Clyde corralled on the other side of the barn, so he’s not going anywhere,” he said. “That means what I’m working on can wait. Would you like another set of hands out there?”
“Ryan and I can handle it.”
No mention of JD, he noticed. He wondered how she was planning to convince her father not to head back out when there was still work to be done. Hoping he’d read the situation correctly, Ty pressed a little. “It’s pretty hot today, and JD looks wiped out. I’d be happy to fill in for him so he can take the afternoon off.”
Morgan’s sharp gaze softened a bit, and this time he got an actual smile out of her. “It’s nice of you to offer. I’ve been trying to figure out how to tell him he needs to call it a day. He’s not an invalid, but he’s not the bull he used to be, either. Don’t you dare tell him I said that,” she warned, pointing a stern finger at him for emphasis. “He’d be furious to find out I think he’s anything less than Superman.”
“Not a chance,” Ty replied with a grin. “I’d prefer to keep my head attached to my shoulders.”
She laughed at that, and joining in was the easiest thing he’d done in a long time.
Hannah gave her mother a confused look. “I don’t get it. Everyone’s head is attached.”
“Ty means that Grandpa would take his head off if he suggested Grandpa needed some help,” Morgan explained with a smile. “Not really, though. It’s an expression that means the person would get really mad at you.”
“That’s bad,” Allie commented quietly.
“It can be,” Ty allowed, directing his comment at the shy child. “But sometimes if you want to help someone, you have to risk making them angry.”
“Why?” she asked, clearly baffled.
“Because it’s better for them. Sometimes folks—especially stubborn ones like your grandpa—keep going the way they are even when they shouldn’t.”
“You know all about that, don’t you?” Morgan asked. While it was clearly a challenge, her voice was calm now, and the anger had left her eyes. Ty wasn’t sure what she was trying to do, but he took her calmer demeanor as a good sign.
“Yeah, I do. My grandfather used to tell us that pride is a good servant but a terrible master.” He got two very blank looks and realized he needed to explain. “It means that being proud is good to a point, but sometimes it can get outta control. When it does, you’re in trouble.”
“Did you get in trouble?” Hannah asked, eyes widening at the idea.
“Yeah, I did. And someone I really loved got hurt because of it. I’ll always regret that.”
“You should apologize,” his sweet daughter informed him in a very grown-up voice. “That way, they’ll know you feel bad about what you did. Right, Mommy?”
“True,” Morgan agreed. Then, to his astonishment, she added an understanding look. “But I’m sure Ty has done that already. Sometimes it just takes a while for the other person to forgive you for what happened.”
After that, their conversation swung to what was going on at school, and what their friends were going to do on their upcoming summer vacations. While Ty followed along and made appropriate comments here and there, part of his mind was focused on the bone Morgan had so unexpectedly tossed him.
Was it possible that she’d begun to forgive him for abandoning her seven years ago? And if she had, was it possible that sometime in the future they’d be able to find a way to be a family? Granted, it wouldn’t be the traditional kind, where they got married and then had a bunch of kids. But given some effort and persistence, he thought maybe they could be friends and work together to raise their daughters.
Right now, from where he was sitting, that looked pretty good.
“Ty, I gotta admit something to you,” Ryan began, leaning on a newly set fence post in the Whittakers’ expansive back pasture. When the former bull rider looked over, her younger brother grinned and shook his head. “You’re a better ranch hand than I figured you’d be. When Morgan texted me that you offered to help, I figured you’d make it twenty minutes and then we’d be carting you back to your place in a heap.”
“Hard work’s good for the soul,” Ty replied, adding the kind of sheepish grin Morgan couldn’t recall ever seeing on him before his stunning downfall. “I always assumed that was one of Grandpa’s clichés, but it turns out he was right. As a bonus, on a hot day like this, you even drop a few pounds you don’t need to be carrying around.”
His easygoing attitude was typical Ty, Morgan knew, but there was a slight tension in his jaw that told her he was putting up a good front for their sakes. The severe back injury he’d suffered wasn’t something that healed and disappeared. It was the sort of thing that dogged you for the rest of your life and had to be managed carefully to keep you out of a wheelchair.
While she recognized that he was a grown man who was perfectly capable of taking care of himself, she couldn’t help worrying that in his eagerness to be helpful, he’d overdone it. And that he’d regret his generosity when he tried to drag himself out of bed tomorrow morning. His mention of the heat was her opportunity to let him off the hook, and just as she’d done while learning to cut calves from a herd, she dove into the opening.
“We’re almost out of water, so I’ll drive back and pick up some cold gallons from the house. Could you give me a hand, Ty?”
She half expected a protest from her brother, but Ryan caught her eye and gave her a slight nod. So, he’d noticed Ty laboring, too, she thought as she sent back a quick smile. Two years younger than her, Ryan could be a real pain, but he also had a big, generous heart. Like her, he wasn’t one to watch someone suffer quietly without at least trying to do something about it.
“If you’re worried about me, I’m fine,” Ty objected stubbornly. “If I stay here, Ryan and I can set a couple more posts before you get back.”
“Not a chance,” Ryan retorted, stabbing the handheld posthole digger into a pile of loose soil. “I’m past being ready for a break.”
Striding past them both, he sprawled out underneath a slender oak whose shade was just wide enough to cover his lanky frame. Sliding his sweat-soaked cowboy hat forward, he crossed his arms over his chest in an obvious message to anyone passing by that if they disturbed him, they’d quickly be wishing they hadn’t.
Ty stared at him for a few moments before shrugging. “Whatever. Let’s go.”
Pleased to get even a grudging concession from the most intractable man on the planet, Morgan was feeling pretty proud of herself as she walked over to the beat-up ranch truck and climbed into the cab. Her buoyant attitude was short-lived, evaporating as she watched Ty laboriously haul himself into the passenger seat. He stared out the open window in a blatant attempt to avoid having a conversation with her, and she decided it was best to leave him alone as she started the engine.
“My back’s gonna be fine, y’know,” he said, still not looking at her.
Morgan was torn between humoring him and being direct. Coddling people wasn’t her style, even her girls, and she finally decided to heed her instincts. “Sure it will, but you’re not there yet. Until you are, you have to be smart about how much you do. You don’t want to push so hard that you set yourself back to where you were a few months ago.”
That got her a groan from her difficult passenger. “All that physical therapy. Some days, I honestly thought I was gonna lose my mind.”
“Apparently, they did a good job, because you’re in better shape than I thought you’d be.”
Horrified that she’d basically just confessed that she’d been following his heartrending story in the news, she clamped her runaway mouth shut and prayed that he was too preoccupied with his discomfort to notice her slip.
He wasn’t.
Turning slightly to face her, he winced but managed a version of his old cocky grin. “You were keeping tabs on me?”
“Not exactly. I mean, everyone in town was talking about what happened to you at that competition, and there was no way to ignore it completely.”
The grin shifted into a knowing look, accompanied by a bemused twinkle of gold in his eyes. “Which you know, because you tried.”
“Yeah,” she conceded with a sigh. Glancing over, she went on. “I’m really glad you’re doing better, Ty. In spite of what happened with us, I never wished you any harm.”
“I’m not sure I deserved that kind of grace from you, but thanks.”
So close on the heels of the humor, the remorse in his voice made her heart twist in sympathy. She’d made enough mistakes in her life to know that forgiving yourself was the only way to put them in the past where they belonged. But when you hurt someone as deeply as Ty had done to her, your own attitude was only part of the equation.
Pulling off to the side of the field road, she put the truck in Park and swiveled to face him squarely. Meeting his confused gaze, she quickly ran over their shared past in her mind—good and bad—and came to the conclusion that it was time. Resting a hand on his shoulder, she took a deep breath and forged ahead. “You need to let this go. It’s in the past, and that’s where it needs to stay.”
“You’re right, but it’s not easy. You know what I mean.”
“Yes, but I also know that’s the only way you can get over it. We all make mistakes.”
After a hesitant look, very quietly he said, “Does that mean you forgive me?”
She thought that one over, even considered telling him she had just to put the matter to rest, but she was a straightforward person by nature. Beyond that, he knew her well enough that if she lied to him, he’d pick up on it in a heartbeat. “No, but I don’t think it’s impossible. Before we connected again, I couldn’t imagine it ever happening.”
Relief flooded his rugged features, and the warmth in his gaze made her feel more confident about her decision to confront him and lay everything on the table. “This doesn’t seem like enough, but thank you. You don’t know how much that means to me.”
Actually, she had a pretty good idea, she mused as she made another bold choice that was for this man’s own stupid, stubborn good. When she looped around and headed for his place, his gratitude morphed into anger.
“Just turn this thing around, MJ. Heat or no, I’m not quitting in the middle of the afternoon.”
“Yes, you are, because I’m not hauling your sorry hide into the hospital tonight when you finally come to your senses and realize you overdid it.”
“That’s not gonna happen.” When she shot him a really? look, he gave in with a noise somewhere between a growl and a groan. “Okay, it might happen, but if it does, I’ll deal with it then.”
“Or you could avoid the problem altogether by being smart. We all have our limitations, cowboy. Even you.”
After several seconds, he let out an exasperated breath. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. Wish you weren’t, though.”
“I know,” she commented, feeling genuine compassion for him. He was just shy of thirty, and had always been so strong, it must be killing him to be forced to concede that he couldn’t do things the rest of them took for granted. Come to think of it, he reminded her of her father, who had trouble admitting—mostly to himself—that he wasn’t as spry as he used to be.
Thoughts of Dad gave her an idea, and as she pulled in to park beside Ty’s ranch house, she said, “If you want to be useful without killing yourself, you could give Dad a hand with all that paperwork we need to file for the injunction against Cartwright Energy. Stuff like that drives him nuts, and I’d imagine he’d be thrilled to have your help and your company.”
“I figured you’d be doing that.”
The suggestion made her laugh. “Sure, in all my spare time. Once the girls are on summer vacation, I’ll have even less than I do now. I was beginning to wonder how I’d ever get it all done, so Dad volunteered.”
“And now he’s regretting it,” Ty guessed, chuckling. “You’re positive he won’t mind me stepping in like that? I know how he feels about handling things himself.”
“He doesn’t seem to mind so much when you’re involved. After all, he let you take his place on the fence crew today,” she replied, still a little bewildered at how easily he’d stepped aside. Then there was his ongoing fondness for Ty, even though he’d known all along that the absent cowboy was the father of her twins. Morgan still wasn’t certain why her dad thought so highly of Ty, but there was no point in denying that he did. She didn’t have to understand the reasons to take advantage of the opportunity.
“All right, then, I’ll do it. But I want to do some of the physical stuff, too. Not just ’cause you can use me out there, but ’cause it’s good for me. I slogged through enough indoor rehab to know the outdoor kind is better. I like being out in the sunshine and fresh air, working with my hands, getting something practical finished. When I’m done, I like looking around and knowing that what I did that day mattered.”
“More than trophies and blue ribbons, you mean?”
“Something like that.” Staring out the windshield, his face took on a pensive expression. “It’s time for me to grow up. I’m not entirely sure how to make that happen, but I’ll figure it out.”
They’d never had a conversation even remotely like this one, and she was at a loss for what to say. Then inspiration struck, and she quietly said, “I know you will.”
Those warm hazel eyes locked with hers, and he gave her another one of his sheepish grins. “Thanks, MJ. Coming from you, that means a lot.”
As they got out of the truck and slowly walked inside together, it struck her that for once, she didn’t mind him using her old nickname. She wasn’t sure what that meant, but it was an undeniable change in her attitude about him. Whether that was good or bad, she couldn’t say. But, considering their tumultuous history, finding out which it was should be interesting.
When she got a look at Ty’s living room, she stopped dead in her tracks. “Where is everything?”
He glanced around as if he’d forgotten how empty the place was, then said, “Well, the mice got to all the upholstered stuff, and I had to get rid of it. It made for a nice bonfire.”
His chuckle sounded forced to her, and the sympathy she’d been feeling for him ratcheted up a notch. But he seemed to be determined to make the best of his bare-bones existence, so she decided it was wise to play along. “At least you don’t have to worry about your furniture clashing with the drapes.”
His muted grin told her that he appreciated her attempt at humor. The ranch house had three bedrooms off the main living area, and a dated galley kitchen that she could glimpse through the pass-through. “You know, if you tore down that wall, this would be a nice great room to hang out in. Put in an island and some tall stools, a jumbo flat-screen over there—” she pointed “—and you’d have a fabulous spot for entertaining.”
“Sounds good. Oh, wait,” he added, snapping his fingers. “I’m broke. Guess I’ll have to put all that on hold for a while.”
“Ryan and Ben did our kitchen reno a couple years ago. It didn’t cost that much, and it works a lot better for the family now.”
Ty shook his head at the suggestion. “Do I look like Mr. DIY to you?”
Actually, now that she considered his appearance, he still looked like the self-assured cowboy he’d been in high school. Only now, he struck her as being out of place, even in the house that he’d always referred to as home. That seemed odd to her, since he’d grown up here, racing through the living room to the kitchen after school. Getting scolded for leaving his barn boots on and tracking the mess across his mother’s immaculate floors.
In her memory, Morgan could still see the two of them sitting on the hearth in the wintertime, sharing a plate of fresh cookies while they thawed out after a ride. The image was so vivid, it almost scared her. Seeking a firmer hold on reality, she reminded herself that the boy in her Norman Rockwell vision had grown into the man who broke her heart and strolled out of her life just when she needed him the most.
The problem was, this time it didn’t work. Because the man standing in front of her was in more pain than he’d ever confess, possibly even to himself. And it wasn’t just that his back hurt, she knew. His life had imploded, and he had no idea how to go on as anyone other than Ty Wilkins, rodeo champion.
With that morose thought tumbling around in her head, she realized that the silence between them had stretched to an uncomfortable length. To cover her sudden discomfort, she went over to the large stone fireplace. The mantel held an impressive array of tall trophies, plaques and some of the gem-encrusted belt buckles he’d won over the years. They were the only personal items in the room, and she suspected that if she roamed through the rest of the house, she wouldn’t find any more.
This was the last of them, she realized sadly. The ones that meant so much to him, even in his darkest hour he couldn’t bear to sell them. Picking up one of the buckles, she read the year and smiled. “I remember this one. It was your first regional rodeo.”
“Yours, too,” he reminded her, coming over to stand beside her. “We really kicked it that year, didn’t we?”
“Yeah, we did,” she recalled, laughing. “And Sadie nailed one of the clowns when he got too close. It didn’t take them long to figure out that pretty as she is, she doesn’t put up with any nonsense.”
“Kinda like her owner.”
“Better watch it, cowboy. That sounded dangerously like a compliment.”
“It was,” he conceded, adding a mischievous grin. “But I promise to be more careful from now on.”
She wasn’t quite sure what he meant by that, but she felt on steadier ground now, so she opted to let the comment go. Setting the buckle in its spot, she looked over the rest of his collection, which was much smaller than it used to be. “Some of these have genuine diamonds and gems on them. You could have gotten a lot for them, so why did you keep them?”
“These are all my firsts,” he explained in a voice that sounded way too humble for the cocky rider she once knew. “That makes ’em special.”
A framed photo in the center of the display caught her eye, and she pulled it from its spot for a closer look. Spinning it so he could see it, she said, “This is us at Cheyenne Frontier Days, ten years ago.”
He simply nodded, and after waiting a few seconds, she realized that he wasn’t going to say anything about it. Irked by his suddenly uncooperative attitude, she glared up at him. “What’s it doing in with your favorite trophies? Is that how you think of me?”
“You know better than that,” he shot back, narrowing his own eyes right back to her. “It was the first time we went there to compete instead of watch, and I had a great time.”
“We both lost in the first round.”
“Not me.” After a few moments, he grinned. “You don’t remember, do you?”
“Remember what?”
“That was when you told me you loved me.” Taking the picture from her, he set it back in the place of honor on his mantel and swung a melancholy gaze back to her. “I’ve had a lot of firsts, but that one was extra special, because it was you.”
The softness in his mellow voice was doing strange things to her stomach, and she fought against it with a dose of common sense. “I’m sure you’ve heard that plenty of times since then.”
“You can believe whatever you want, MJ. But in spite of the fact that I messed everything up at the end, what we had together meant a lot to me.”
“Then why?” she heard herself ask. She hadn’t intended to confront him about his motive for leaving now—or ever—but suddenly, she had to know. “If you loved me so much, why did you just take off like that?”
Raking a hand through his damp hair, he stared at the collection of mementoes before looking at her. In his eyes, she saw a combination of remorse and anguish that would have shredded a heart much harder than hers.
“Fear.”
She snorted at the idea of it. “You’ve never been afraid of anything.”
“That night, I was.” Pulling away from her, he began pacing around the empty room as if searching for a way to explain his baffling decision to her. “It sounds crazy, but after I dropped you off at your place, it hit me that if we kept going the way we were, we’d end up married.”
“Sounds awful,” she scoffed, unable to see the problem. “And considering that you were so hot to have a family, and I was pregnant at the time, if you’d hung around, you would’ve had everything you wanted.”
Ty hesitated, which was unlike him. Normally, he jumped first and thought about it later. His unusual show of caution gave her the impression that he was about to share something that he’d never told anyone else.
“I did want a family.” Sighing, he fixed her with a woeful look. “But I didn’t want a family like the one I grew up in. Mom fussed about every little thing, and Dad worked all the time just to get away from her. When they were together, all they did was fight.”
“Yeah, I remember hearing them a few times when we were out on the porch.”
“We weren’t allowed to have pets in the house, ’cause they were too messy. The horses were okay, because Robby and I took care of them, and they never came inside. So we spent all our time outside ’cause that’s where we could act like kids and not get in trouble for it.”
He wasn’t explaining himself all that clearly, but Morgan knew him well enough to be able to fill in the blanks.
“So you were afraid we’d end up like that?” He nodded slowly, and she wanted to scream. “How on earth could you think that? I’m so much not like your mother, we could’ve come from different planets. And while we’re on the subject of fighting, us Whittakers are pros at it. What made you think we were the perfect family?”
“You weren’t, but you loved each other, and when something was wrong, you always worked it out.”
“What made you believe that you and I wouldn’t figure out how to handle things the same way?”
“Neither one of us is good at compromising.” Now that he’d finally hit the crux of what he’d been trying to say, he actually looked relieved. “I worried that we’d make each other miserable, and then our kids would grow up the same way I did. I didn’t want that to happen, so I left. I know it was cowardly, but I didn’t know what else to do.”
“Talk to me?” she suggested, her temper beginning to simmer as if his betrayal had happened yesterday. “Tell me how you were feeling? Or maybe leave me a note so I didn’t have to keep wondering what went wrong? Any of those would’ve been better than just disappearing that way.”
“That occurred to me a few months later, but by then I was afraid it was too late to make things right.”
He had a point there, she acknowledged with a mental sigh. Pregnant and unable to ride, she’d returned home and spent the final four months of her difficult pregnancy on strict bed rest. Doing everything in her power to ensure that her twins were born healthy. She’d hated him then, for being able to go on with his life as if nothing had happened.
It had never occurred to her that he might regret what he’d done. The man in front of her with his heart on his sleeve wasn’t the same guy she’d been picturing all this time. This was the Ty she remembered, the boy who was always coming up with something fun to do, the teenager who helped her perfect her calf-roping technique for her junior rodeo competitions.
The young man who kissed her in the moonlight one evening and promised her the stars.
Sweet as that image was, it conflicted with the one she’d formed of him over the years that he’d been gone. Was it possible that the humbling nature of his accident had gentled his arrogant streak? Since his apology that first day she saw him in town, she’d been struggling to reconcile her bitter memories with the amiable man who was trying to rebuild his life from the ground up.
Bewildered by the conflicting emotions swirling through her, she firmly shut them down and got practical. Going into the kitchen, she found some ibuprofen in the cupboard and filled a glass with water. Handing them over the pass-through, she simply said, “Take those.”
Judging by his grimace, he’d been expecting her to say something about his very personal revelation. She felt a twinge of guilt for disappointing him, but she didn’t know how she felt about it all. Until she did, she wasn’t about to say something she’d end up regretting later. He followed her order without complaint, draining the glass before setting it on the framed opening.
“Thanks for bringing me home,” he said politely, as if they were strangers. “I can manage from here.”
“Take it easy, and if you need anything, just call.”
That got her another woeful look, but he didn’t say anything else. That was good, she decided as she walked through the front door and out to the truck. Because she wasn’t sure she could give him any more than she already had. Not long ago, she’d have known for certain that having some kind of future relationship with Ty Wilkins would never happen.
But now that she finally understood the truth of what had driven him away from her, she could feel her resolve starting to waver. Doubting herself aggravated her to no end, and unfortunately she had a feeling that she was in for a long bout of it.