The Promise of Forgiveness Read online

  “Most mothers and daughters quarrel,” he said.

  This was more than a mother-daughter squabble. “I caught Mia in bed with a boy.”

  Hank’s head snapped sideways so quickly Ruby marveled that he hadn’t fractured a vertebra.

  “Don’t look at me like that. I don’t condone sex at her age.”

  “I didn’t say you did.”

  But the Pineville gossip grapevine had said . . . That Mia will turn out just like her mother. Going from one man to the next.

  Like mother like daughter.

  Wouldn’t be surprised if Mia got pregnant before she was fifteen.

  I bet Ruby will be a grandmother before her thirty-second birthday.

  Fearing the town big mouths might be right, Ruby had packed their bags and gotten the hell out of Dodge.

  “Is that why you’re moving to Kansas?” Hank asked.

  “Yes. It would have been tough for Mia to remain in school. I was hoping this move would help us grow closer.” She swirled the coffee in her mug. “So far my plan isn’t working.”

  “Give it time.”

  Interesting counsel from a man who’d turned his back on his own flesh and blood. “Thank you for being patient with Mia.”

  “She doesn’t bother me.”

  But I do. “What’s with the nursery on the second floor?”

  “I told you to stay out of that room.” Evidently he wanted to pretend he hadn’t seen her footprints in front of the door. “Don’t listen too well, do you?”

  “Listening”—especially to her conscience—“has never been one of my strengths. After Cora left, did you remarry and have a baby with a different woman?”

  “No.”

  Good. A couple who abandoned their child shouldn’t be parents again.

  As soon as the thought registered in her mind, Ruby flinched. How was she any different from Hank or Cora? She’d missed all the signs that Mia had been interested in a boy. If she’d been a better parent, her daughter might not have jumped into bed with the first guy who paid attention to her. Like mother, like daughter.

  Why do you deserve a pass and not Hank?

  Ignoring the voice in her head, she asked, “If you had no other children, why keep the nursery?”

  When Hank remained closemouthed, Ruby lost her patience. “You didn’t expect me to magically appear on your doorstep and act like we’ve always been family, did you?” To make clear he knew where she stood on that subject, she added, “Because we’re not . . . family.”

  His gnarled fingers choked the shotgun—maybe his damaged heart had a little feeling left in it, after all. “Cora took off before the doctor released you from the hospital.”

  “Took off?”

  “She was gone by the time I showed up to bring you both home.”

  Ruby couldn’t imagine leaving Mia only hours after giving birth to her. “And you had no idea where Cora went?”

  “I waited at the hospital all day, expecting her to come back.”

  But Cora hadn’t. “And the police couldn’t find her?”

  “She up ’n’ vanished into thin air.” It suddenly occurred to Ruby that Joe Dawson had a lot in common with his boss—both had lost a child and their wives had left them. Maybe their wounded spirits had drawn them together.

  “Did you bring me home from the hospital?”

  Hank’s shoulders sank into his chest, as if the memory were too heavy to bear. “No. I left you there.”

  “Someone would have been willing to help you with a baby.”

  “There weren’t many women in the area.”

  “What about your parents?” she asked.

  “I struck out on my own when I was fifteen.”

  Ruby’s family tree wasn’t looking so hot. “And Cora’s parents?”

  “She didn’t remember her mother, and she hadn’t seen her father in years.”

  Hank and Cora had experienced rough childhoods, but that wasn’t a good enough excuse to abandon their baby.

  Before arriving in Unforgiven, Ruby had been determined to hold Hank accountable for turning his back on her. But she struggled to hang on to her resentment after learning that Cora had made a deliberate decision to leave Ruby behind, knowing Hank hadn’t been in a position to care for their baby. “So you called Social Services.”

  “The lady promised she’d find you a good home.”

  It occurred to Ruby that the reason Glen and Cheryl Baxter had moved from Oklahoma to Missouri a year after she was born hadn’t been because of a job transfer like they’d told her, but to lessen the chance of Ruby coming into contact with Hank or Cora.

  “Did you”—he cleared the phlegm in his throat—“get a good home?”

  “I had a decent upbringing.” Glen Baxter might have distanced himself from Ruby after her sophomore year of high school, but he’d never abused her. “My dad was a long-haul trucker and my mother cut hair in the back bedroom of our trailer.”

  “Your folks still alive?”

  “They died in a car accident shortly after Mia was born.” A truck driver had dozed off at the wheel and crossed the center line. Destiny had played a cruel joke; her father’s life had been ended by a fellow trucker. “I was an only child, but I always wished I had siblings.”

  Hank scratched the silver stubble on his cheek. “You got any other relatives?”

  “An uncle I met once.” Ruby had been ten when her father’s brother had passed through town. After the car accident, she’d searched her mother’s address book but hadn’t found his name or phone number. The only people who’d attended the funeral had been her mother’s hair clients and a few of her father’s beer-drinking buddies.

  “Did you keep track of me?” she asked.

  “No, but I insisted the adoption paperwork stated that if Cora wanted to find you, she could.” He jiggled his knee. “Or if you wanted to find one of us . . .”

  If Ruby had known she’d been adopted, she most certainly would have tracked down her birth parents, especially after the falling-out with her father. During the six-hour bus ride from Missouri to Oklahoma she’d examined her relationship with Glen Baxter but hadn’t come to any conclusion as to why he’d turned his back on her practically overnight. Things between them had begun to get better before Mia was born, but the accident had robbed them of a reconciliation.

  “Cora would have come back if she’d been able to.”

  Oh. My. God. How long had Hank held out hope that Cora would return to him?

  “No regrets giving me up?” As soon as the question slipped from her mouth, Ruby silently cursed. It wasn’t Hank’s fault that her adoptive father had ignored her. And Cora wasn’t without blame. She could have taken Ruby with her when she’d fled the hospital.

  Hank swept his arm through the air. “This is a lonely place for a girl to grow up without a mother.”

  “You might have gotten married again.”

  His leg jiggled faster.

  “How come you never tried to contact me before now?”

  “Didn’t see any point.”

  “You weren’t curious about me?”

  Silence.

  Hank refused to give Ruby the affirmation she wanted . . . needed to hear in order to forgive him—not that he cared about forgiveness. But Ruby cared. A little regret on his part would be nice.

  He might not be ready to open up to her, but Hank’s crotchety personality and the crow baits in the corral had influenced Mia in a way Ruby hadn’t or couldn’t. It had been weeks since she’d seen her daughter excited about anything. When Mia was with the horses, her eyes sparkled, and for that reason alone, Ruby would cut Hank some slack.

  “I’ll help you turn the upstairs nursery into a proper guest bedroom.” She hated that she felt like she had to do something nice for him before she and Mia left. She had no
reason to feel guilty about leaving him so soon after they met.

  He leaned forward in the chair. “We got company.”

  A dust cloud moved in their direction. “You’re not going to shoot out the deputy’s tires, are you?”

  “Not unless he gives me a reason to.”

  The lawman parked, then stepped from his vehicle. “’Morning, Hank.” He removed his mirrored sunglasses and dropped them into his shirt pocket. “Hello, Ruby.”

  “Paul.”

  “Didn’t know you had a daughter, Hank.” The deputy approached the porch.

  “We’re catching up after a separation,” Ruby said. “Have you figured out who stole the Devil’s Wind cattle?”

  If the deputy was surprised she knew about the missing livestock, he didn’t let it show. “’Fraid not. No witnesses have come forward.” He propped a boot on the bottom step, then rested his forearms on his bent thigh. “Any chance Dawson is rustling your cows?”

  “Joe didn’t steal my cattle.”

  “You made up your mind yet about selling?” Randall picked at a piece of lint on his pant leg. “The buyer I mentioned is still interested in the property.”

  “You’re selling the Devil’s Wind?” Ruby asked Hank.

  “Was thinking about it, if you didn’t show up.”

  “What does Ruby have to do with deciding whether or not to put your ranch on the market?”

  “She’s my next of kin. When I kick the bucket, this place’ll be hers.”

  “What’s your daughter going to do with these badlands?”

  “What do I care? I’ll be dead.”

  Ruby grappled with the knowledge that her inheritance was the Devil’s Wind and not a trinket Cora had left behind for her. Never in a million years would she have believed she’d own a ranch.

  Randall tapped his finger against the brim of his hat. “Nice to see you again, Ruby.”

  “Wait.” She set her mug on the porch floor and stood. “How do you plan to catch the thieves who took Hank’s cows? Have you contacted the authorities in other counties to see if they—”

  “Cases like this take time.” His smile slipped. “If we come up with a promising lead, I’ll be in touch.” The deputy drove off.

  What the heck had gotten into Ruby—she’d acted like a mama bear protecting her cub. So what if Hank had lost a few bovines? “Were you kidding about leaving me the ranch?”

  “Nope.”

  “Why?”

  “It’s all I’ve got to make up for the past.”

  Damn Hank McArthur. Ruby didn’t want his stupid ranch. She’d answered his summons because she’d needed to know more about her birth parents and their medical histories. Accepting the house and property would mean that she forgave him for not raising her. And she didn’t want to forgive him.

  Not yet.

  Maybe not ever.

  Chapter 8

  Joe spotted the patrol car speeding away as he pulled up to the barn and got out of his pickup. As soon as he finished mucking the stalls he’d find Hank and ask if Randall had any new information on the missing cattle.

  “Where were you?”

  He stopped midstride and glanced to his left, where Mia stood, holding a pitchfork. The fact that he’d walked into the barn and hadn’t felt a presence proved Ruby and her daughter were interfering with his concentration. “What are you doing in here?”

  “What does it look like?” Mia tossed a pile of soiled hay into the barrow. “I’m getting used to the poop,” she said. “The barn smells like our old yard when the Lil’ Stinky truck pumped out our septic tank.”

  “I’ll finish up. You can go back to the house.” He removed the pitchfork from her hand and stabbed the pronged tool into the dirty hay.

  Mia jumped aside when horse dung sailed through the air, missing the barrow. “I picked out names for the horses,” she said.

  “Oh, yeah?” Apparently his boss had passed on his stubborn streak to both his daughter and his granddaughter.

  “The black one is Pretty Boy, the gray one is Sugar, and the brown one is Lonesome.”

  Mia sprawled across the hay bales stacked in the corner. “Do you have any kids?”

  Joe braced himself for the sharp pain that always pierced his heart when he thought of his son, but this time there was only a twinge. Until last night when he’d unloaded on Ruby, Joe hadn’t spoken about Aaron to anyone—not even to Hank. “I don’t have any children.”

  “I wish I had a brother or a sister,” she said.

  Joe had wanted more children after Aaron was born, but Melanie had said one was all she could manage. Would a second child have held their marriage together after they’d buried Aaron? Maybe not, but he’d have had a reason to wake up each morning. Another son or daughter wouldn’t have erased the pain of Aaron’s death, but it might have prevented Joe from shutting himself off from others. Having someone who depended on him would have encouraged him to at least give a damn.

  “Have you ever been married?”

  “Yes.” Joe set aside the pitchfork, then broke open a fresh hay bale and spread it in the stall.

  “I wanted my mom to marry Sean, but she broke up with him for no good reason.”

  So Ruby had been involved with a man before leaving Missouri. It’s none of your business. Maybe not, but he’d spilled his guts in the bar, so he got a free pass to be nosy. “What happened to Sean?” When Mia didn’t answer, Joe turned and came face-to-face with Ruby.

  She struggled to keep a straight face. “What happened to Sean what?”

  His gaze darted past Ruby—Mia had snuck off. “Sorry. Your daughter mentioned him, but it’s none of my business.” He pushed the barrow to the next stall, which had already been cleaned.

  “Sean and I were together for nine months before I ended the relationship.” Ruby stared into space.

  “Regrets?” he asked.

  “Not really.”

  That wasn’t exactly a no. “What happened with Mia’s father?”

  “We never married. I gave him a lot of chances to do right by me and Mia, but he blew us off.”

  “Hold still.”

  “What?” Ruby’s eyes rounded.

  Joe brushed his fingers against her shoulder. “Spider.”

  “Did you get it?” She swatted her hair and jumped around. “I hate spiders.”

  “You’re going to break your neck if you keep flinging your head like that.” He grinned at her antics.

  She was halfway through the barn before she stopped and faced him. “I came in here to tell you that Hank made tuna sandwiches for lunch.”

  “What did Randall want?”

  “The deputy was more interested in why I’m at the ranch than in finding cows.”

  “I figured as much.”

  “Are you busy later?”

  “No.”

  “Would you mind giving me a tour of the ranch?” She spread her arms wide. “Apparently I’m going to inherit all this when Hank dies.”

  Joe hoped that day wasn’t coming anytime soon. He liked working at the Devil’s Wind—it was the first place that had felt a little like home since he’d left Tulsa.

  “Sure. I’ll show you the property.” Joe stood by the doors and watched Ruby cross the driveway, then veer toward the corral, where Mia sat on the rails talking to Pretty Boy.

  Maybe it was a good thing Ruby intended to leave next week. Since she’d arrived yesterday Joe swore the sun shone a little brighter and the air tasted a little less dusty.

  And he felt a little more guilty because he’d noticed.

  • • •

  “Thought you were going inside to eat, Mia.” Ruby stopped at the corral.

  “She ate already.” Hank ambled toward them. “This one is yours.” After handing off the sandwich, he climbed the rails and sat next to
Mia.

  Ruby took a bite of tuna fish, perplexed when Hank and Mia just stared at the horse. “What’s going on?”

  “Shhh . . .” Mia pressed a finger to her mouth, then whispered, “Hank says the best way to make friends with a horse is to be quiet and wait him out.”

  Hank slid his fingers into his shirt pocket, but Mia nudged him in the ribs and he left the cigarettes alone.

  “So all you have to do is sit there and the horse becomes your friend?” Pretty Boy answered Ruby’s question when he moved within touching distance of Mia.

  “Put your hand out,” Hank said. “Nice and easy. Let him sniff.”

  Mia followed his instructions, and Pretty Boy dipped his head, bumping his nose against her palm.

  “He’s telling you it’s okay if you touch him.”

  Mia rubbed her fingers over the gelding’s nose. “I won’t hurt you, Pretty Boy.” She smiled at Ruby. “He likes me.”

  “I can see that.” It had been forever since her daughter had smiled at her, and the sweet expression brought a lump to Ruby’s throat.

  “Look who’s coming over.” Hank stuffed his hand into his pants pocket, then handed Mia two sugar cubes.

  The horse head butted Pretty Boy out of the way, and Mia giggled. “You’re spoiled.” She held out her palm, and Sugar lapped up the cubes. Then Pretty Boy bumped his nose into Mia’s chest. Mia giggled and wrapped her arms around his neck.

  “He likes the way you smell,” Hank said.

  “I know, Pretty Boy.” Mia closed her eyes when the horse blew in her face. “You don’t like Hank ’cause he stinks like cigarette smoke.”

  Hank chuckled. “You might be right about that, granddaughter.”

  “Go get Lonesome, Pretty Boy,” Mia said. “He looks sad standing by himself.”

  “Maybe Lonesome just wants to be left alone,” Ruby said.

  “No, he doesn’t.” Mia tugged Hank’s shirtsleeve. “Can I go over there with him?”

  “Wait here.” Hank climbed down off the rail. Lonesome stamped his front hoof, kicking up a cloud of dust as his owner drew close. When the horse stepped toward Hank, Mia’s face broke into a wide grin.

  Feeling like a third wheel, Ruby went into the house and finished her sandwich in front of the kitchen window. After several attempts, Hank got Lonesome to follow him over to Mia.