Her Oklahoma Rancher. Brenda Minton
guardianship. I knew you would come up with dozens of reasons why you can’t.”
“And I would have been right.”
He glanced down at the child sleeping in his arms. He’d had a couple of weeks to get used to the idea of parenting her, of being a dad. He’d come to terms with the big changes in his life because she was in it. Like Eve, he’d had a lot of reasons why he couldn’t.
Those reasons still crept up on him from time to time. Usually in the middle of the night when he couldn’t sleep, or Tori couldn’t sleep. He’d hired a nanny. That didn’t really suffice. Mrs. Porter wasn’t looking for another child to raise. She showed Tori a lot of love, but she’d made it clear from the beginning she could nanny but she wasn’t the parent. He couldn’t give that duty over to someone else.
“I’m sorry, Eve, but I had to do something to make you see how important this is. We can’t just walk away from her. It might not be what we signed on for and I feel like I’m the last person who should be raising this little girl, but James and Hanna trusted us.”
“But there is no us,” she said with a lift of her chin, but he could see pain reflected in her dark eyes.
The pain he saw didn’t bother him as much as what he didn’t see in her eyes, in her expression. He didn’t see the person he used to know, the woman he’d planned to marry.
He had noticed the same yesterday, and he guessed that’s why he’d left Tori with her. He’d been sitting there looking at a woman he used to think he knew better than he knew himself, and he hadn’t recognized her.
“There is no us, but we still exist, you and me, and Tori needs us.” He said it softly because the little girl in his arms seemed to be drifting off, even with the occasional sob.
“There has to be another option. I obviously can’t do this. Last night was proof.”
“Last night meant nothing. You’ve always managed, Eve. You’re strong and capable.”
“Before, Ethan. I was that person before. This is me now, and I can’t.”
“I guess you have changed. I’ve never heard you say you can’t do anything.”
He sat down on a nearby chair. Isaac had left. The woman named Sierra had also disappeared. They were alone. When had they last been alone? The night he proposed? It had been the night she left for Afghanistan. He’d taken her to dinner in San Antonio and they’d walked along the riverfront surrounded by people, music and twinkling lights.
He’d dropped to one knee there in front of strangers passing by, seeing the sights. Dozens had stopped to watch as she cried and said yes. Later they’d made the drive to the airport, his ring glistening on her finger, planning a wedding that would never happen.
“Ethan?” Her voice was soft, quiet, questioning.
He glanced down at the little girl in his arms.
“What other option is there, Eve? Should we turn her over to the state, let her take her chances with whoever they choose? Should we find some distant relative? What do you recommend?”
He leaned back in the chair and studied her face, her expression. She was everything familiar. His childhood friend. The person he’d loved. Had loved. Past tense. The woman he’d wanted to spend his life with had been someone else, someone who never backed down. She looked as tough, as stubborn as ever, but there was something fragile in her expression.
Something in her expression made him recheck his feelings. He’d been bucked off horses, trampled by a bull, broken his arm jumping dirt bikes. She’d been his only broken heart. He didn’t want another one.
“There is no us, you’ve made that clear.” He loosened his hold on Tori and she sighed in her sleep. “I’m glad you thought that was your decision to make and that I had no say in the matter. That is beside the point. There is a Tori. And she needs a home. She needs us. You and me.”
“She is obviously bonded to you. You’ve figured this parenting thing out.” Her voice took on a frantic tone.
“No, I haven’t figured it out. I have help. My mom. My sister. But they can’t raise her.” Not that he hadn’t considered it. He could go to court, get custody finalized and then give guardianship to his sister, Bethany.
“What are we supposed to do?” Eve asked, moving closer, her gaze landing on the child in his arms.
“That’s why I’m here,” he admitted. “So we can figure this out. The judge wants this case settled. He’s given me temporary guardianship but he wants to be able to finalize her guardianship and he wants it done as soon as possible. He believes James and Hanna made a decision based on the facts they had and that they had a reason for the choice they made. There’s a court date in six weeks.”
“Court?”
“In Texas. And you have to be there. We both have to go and we need to have a plan in place by then.”
“A plan?”
He tried to hide the hint of a smile her questions instigated. “A plan for Tori, for us, for the future.”
She shook her head. “My future is here. You have a life in Texas. We can’t shift her back and forth like some unwanted little parcel. That wouldn’t give her the stability she needs or the family she deserves.”
She was right. They weren’t a couple. They hadn’t been for several years. And, if it had been that easy for her to end things, maybe they had never truly been a couple.
That realization didn’t help solve the problem at hand. Tori’s dependence on them to make the right choices. Like it or not, they were in this together.
She couldn’t do this. She didn’t know what “this” meant. It seemed to be a whole list of things. She couldn’t be a parent. She couldn’t process the loss of friends she hadn’t spoken to in years. The loss was real, even with the passing of time.
Her gaze landed on their little girl. The peaceful, sleeping child in Ethan’s arms.
Ethan. She looked up and found him watching her, questions burning in his blue eyes. He was at the top of the list of things she couldn’t tackle. Not right now with her emotions shattered.
She pushed her chair away from him and headed for the door, fighting tears, fighting with the past. As she went out the door, she heard him call her name. She shook her head. Not because she wouldn’t deal with this situation but because she needed a few minutes alone to figure out the next step.
She needed to pray. Her heart constricted at the thought of prayer. Because she did pray. She went to church. Sometimes she sang in the choir. But when anyone said to trust God, she felt a spike of true anger rise up in her spirit. Because she had trusted Him. She’d prayed. She’d believed.
And here she was. James and Hanna were gone and it wasn’t right. She wanted to scream to heaven that it wasn’t fair. And where was God in all this?
With no clear destination in mind she found herself at the kennel. She opened a gate and whistled to the dog inside. The yellow Labrador retriever immediately moved to her side, probably glad to escape the kennel and her puppies. The dogs training to be service animals were typically housed with either the men or women on the ranch, so they were socialized and immersed in training.
In the beginning, the dogs had been a hobby and therapy. With time, experience and training, Mercy Ranch had become a key provider of service dogs to members of the military and to other deserving folks around the country.
“How’s the family?” Eve asked the dog. In response, April gave her a sloppy dog kiss. “Eight puppies. You’re an expert. Do you have any advice for me?”