A Family For Tory And A Mother For Cindy

Chapter Two

“Nooo!” Mindy screamed over and over.

Slade crossed two lanes of traffic to pull into an almost-deserted office parking lot. Before Tory had time to react to the situation, he was out of the car and thrusting open the back door.

He hauled his daughter into his arms and held her tightly to him, whispering, “It’s okay, sweetheart. You’re all right. I’m here. Nothing’s going to hurt you ever again. I promise.”

Tory twisted around, desperately wanting to help Mindy. She had come to love the child in the short time she’d known her. The child’s sobs filled the air with her pain, a pain Tory wished she could wipe away.

“Mom-my,” Mindy cried, her voice muffled by the blue cotton of Slade’s shirt.

But Tory heard the pitiful wail and knew the announcer had triggered a memory of Mindy’s own wreck that had changed the little girl’s life forever. Tory’s heart pounded against her chest in slow, anguish-filled throbs, mirroring the distress in Mindy. Tory knew more than most how quickly life could change; one split second could make all the difference. If only she hadn’t gone out…. Tory pushed the memory away, refusing to allow it into her mind. She couldn’t alter the past, but with God’s guidance, she could protect herself.

She caught Slade’s attention and mouthed, “Can I help?”

He shook his head, stroking his daughter’s back. “Sweetie, Mommy’s gone. But I’m here for you.”

“It—it—” Mindy struggled for her words. “It—hurt.”

“I know, baby. But you’re safe now.”

Slade’s eyes slid closed, but not before Tory saw their glistening sheen. Tears clogged Tory’s throat and misted her own eyes. She blinked, trying to get a grip on her emotions that careened out of control.

Mindy shuddered and Slade clutched her tighter. “Mommy’s watching over you, baby. Taking care of you. She’ll always be with you in here.” He laid his hand over his daughter’s heart.

Helpless, Tory drew in deep breaths after deep breaths but still she ached for the pair. She felt as if she had intruded on a private family moment and should disappear. She would give anything to take the child’s pain away, but from experience knew that was something another couldn’t do.

Mindy pulled back, sniffing and wiping her nose. “I—” she sucked in a huge gulp of air “—know, Dad-dy.”

He cupped his daughter’s face in his large hands. “I love you, sweetie.”

She sniffled again. “I know.”

Slade brushed the pads of his thumbs across Mindy’s cheeks, erasing all evidence of her tears. “Are you ready to show Tory a good time?” Tenderness marked his expression as he peered at his daughter with eyes a soft azure. “I thought we would go to your favorite restaurant.”

“Goldie’s?”

“Of course. Is there another?”

“No!” A grin split Mindy’s face.

Slade kissed his daughter, then slipped from the back seat. When he settled behind the steering wheel and started the engine, he threw Tory a glance that caused her heart to flip over. Sadness mixed with a look of appeal for understanding. She slid her hand across the console, almost touching Slade in reassurance. At the last second she pulled back and smiled at him instead.

“I love Goldie’s hamburgers and onion rings,” Tory said to Mindy, trying to ignore the heat of a blush she felt creep up her face at Slade’s intense regard.

“Me, too.” Mindy clapped, her left hand curled so that her palms didn’t meet.

“With everything on it, even onions.”

Tory caught Slade’s look. The smile that glinted in his eyes warmed her. Her blush deepened. Aware his gaze was still riveted to her, she shifted in the leather seat, crossing and uncrossing her ankles. Uncomfortable under his intense scrutiny, she searched for something to say. Silence dominated the small confines of the car. Nothing she thought seemed appropriate so she let the quiet reign.

Fifteen minutes later Slade drove into the parking lot next to Goldie’s. After he assisted Mindy from the back seat, they all headed into the restaurant, decorated in homespun décor, reminiscent of a farmhouse, with the scent of baking bread and coffee saturating the air.

Tory sat across from Mindy and Slade in the booth along the large front window that overlooked a pond. Geese and ducks swam in the water, which drew the little girl’s attention.

“Look—” Mindy frowned, her brow wrinkled in thought “—bab-ies.”

The fluency of the little girl’s speech had improved over the months since Tory had known her, but still the child labored to put her words together, to find the correct word to say. Tory wanted to hug her for her perseverance.

“The last time Mindy and I were here, the geese were sitting on their nests. They’re three couples and it looks like they have all had their babies. Now she’ll want to come back every week to keep track of them.”

“I have a pond, Mindy, on my property. We’ll have to ride there one day and have a picnic.”

“Dad-dy, too?”

Tory’s gaze slid to Slade’s. “Do you ride?”

He laughed. “Sort of.”

Tory arched one brow in question.

“The last time was in high school, so it’s been years since I’ve been on a horse. Is it like riding a bicycle?”

“Sort of.” Tory downed a large swallow of ice water, her throat suddenly parched.

“Well, then, yes, I do ride—or let’s just say I know how to fall gracefully when the horse bolts.”

“Now you’ve piqued my curiosity. What happened the last time you rode?”

“I had leaned over to open the gate into the pasture when my horse got spooked by a rabbit darting in front of him. He decided to take off, leaving me dangling from the gate.”

Mindy giggled. “Oh, Dad-dy.”

“I’ve fallen a few times, too, and I can’t always say they were graceful falls.” Tory took another long sip of her water, relishing the cool liquid.

Slade started to say something when the waitress approached to take their orders. After she left, he grinned. “When I fell, I landed in a mud puddle and was covered from head to toe. It was a big mud puddle.”

“When can—we—do it?” Mindy asked, eagerness giving her face a radiant glow.

“How about this weekend? I’m free after church on Sunday.” Tory glanced from the little girl to Slade.

“Only if you allow me to bring the picnic.”

“This is my treat. I invited you.”

“Then let me bring the dessert.” Determination marked his expression.

Tory shrugged. “Fine.”

“What do you like?”

“Oh, just about anything with chocolate. Surprise me.”

“I’ve gotten the impression you weren’t someone who liked to be surprised.”

“Not usually.” Tory clasped her hands in her lap to still their trembling. Control and order were so important in her life, the threads that held it together. “I don’t like to take risks, either, but I think I’ll be safe with you bringing the dessert.”

“Isn’t your Bright Star Stables a financial risk?”

“Yes, but then some things are important enough to risk. I saw a need and wanted to do something about it.”

“And this parent is grateful. If I can help you with anything, please let me know.”

Tory thought about her low bank account, but pride kept her from saying anything. For many years she had done everything on her own. She was used to that and would somehow make the therapeutic riding program a success. When her aunt’s inheritance had allowed her to fulfill a dream, she’d known in her heart this was what God had wanted her to do with her life. God would provide the means to keep Bright Star Stables going.

Slade’s gaze bore into her as if he could reach into her mind and read it. “It’s okay to ask for help when you need it.”

“Look—Dad-dy.” Mindy jostled her father’s arm, then pointed out the window at the baby geese swimming in a line behind one of their parents with the other bringing up the rear.

If it wouldn’t have raised more questions at Mindy’s timely interruption, Tory would have gladly hugged and kissed the child. The conversation was getting too personal for her. Keeping people at a distance had become such a habit for her that any probing into her feelings or past proved highly uncomfortable. She swiped the film of perspiration from her upper lip, then finished off her cold water.

After watching the geese with his daughter for a few minutes, Slade returned his attention to Tory. “I’ll drop the subject for now, but it’s in my best interest to see Bright Star Stables continue.”

Mindy swung her gaze to her father, a deep line across her forehead. “What’s—wrong?”

With his regard trained on Tory, Slade answered, “Nothing, sweetheart. I just wanted Tory to know how much we both appreciate the work she does.”

Mindy bounced up and down. “Yeah!”

Heat scorched her cheeks. She noticed a few patrons looking their way. Breaking eye contact with Slade, she studied her place mat. “Thank you,” she whispered, relieved that the waitress brought them their food, taking the focus off her. She preferred being in the background, having had more than her share of the limelight in the past—something she never wanted to relive again.

Tory bit into her thick, juicy hamburger and sighed. “I’d forgotten how great this tasted.” She popped a small onion ring into her mouth. “And this. Of course, this will go straight to my hips.”

“I don’t think that’ll hurt you.” Slade dumped several sugar packets into his iced tea.

“It will if I had to buy a whole new wardrobe. About all I can afford is a flour sack.” The second she’d said it, she regretted the reference to her financial state.

Slade’s eyes gleamed, but his lips remained pressed together.

Tory blew out a breath of air, thankful he wasn’t going to pursue the topic. “Have you lived in Cimarron City long?”

“All my life. How about you?”

“Just a few years. I moved here from Dallas.”

“What made you leave Dallas for Oklahoma?”

She should have expected the question, but still it took her by surprise. “The weather.”

“We have the same beastly heat in the summer as Dallas.”

“Actually, my aunt died and left me her small ranch. I came to sell it and decided to stay.”

“You don’t miss the big city.”

“Cimarron City is big enough for me. Besides, I’m a country gal at heart, and even though there are eighty thousand living here, it doesn’t seem that way when I’m out on my ranch.”

“But it’s still a far cry from Dallas.”

And for that Tory was thankful, but didn’t say it out loud. Her memories of her hometown of Dallas were laden with sorrow, which had nothing to do with the city itself. But if she never went back, that would suit her just fine. “Do you have any other family here?” She wanted to take the focus off her and Dallas.

“I have an uncle in a retirement home in Tulsa. His son moved away when he went to college and hasn’t returned except to visit a few times. My younger brother lives in Chicago and loves the big city. My father died ten years ago and Mom decided to live in the southernmost tip of Florida where it’s warm all the time. So I’m the last Donaldson here in Cimarron City.”

Mindy tugged on his arm. “Me—too.”

“How right you are. Mindy and I are the last Donaldsons here. How about your family?”

Tory finished another huge onion ring, then washed it down with a swallow of raspberry-flavored tea. “All my family lives in Texas.”

“Do you see them much?”

“They visit the ranch every summer for the Fourth of July.”

“You don’t go home?”

“It’s hard for me to get away because of the horses. Someone has to look after them and I can’t afford help. I’m stuck, but I don’t mind.”

“Are all the horses at the ranch yours?” Slade took a bite of his hamburger.

“No, I stable some. That brings me some needed income to do what I love.”

“The therapeutic riding program?”

Tory nodded. “I’ll need to get back to the ranch before dark. I still have some chores to do.”

“Are you through, Mindy?” Slade tossed his napkin on the table.

The little girl gulped down the rest of her chocolate milk.

“Yep,” she said, displaying a creamy brown mustache.

Slade took her napkin and wiped her mouth. “We’d better go. You have a big day tomorrow. You’ve got physical therapy in the morning.”

Mindy pouted. “Do—I—have to?”

“It won’t be long, sweetie, before you won’t have to. But for now, yes.”

After paying for the dinner, Slade escorted Mindy and Tory to his car. Twenty minutes later, he pulled into the parking lot at the speech therapist’s office.

He glanced at Mindy in the back seat and smiled. “She still falls asleep riding in the car when she’s exhausted.”

“She worked hard today at the barn. She also rode.” Tory pushed her door open and was surprised when she saw Slade get out of the car, too. “I’m only parked a few feet away.”

“I know,” he said, coming around the front of his car. “But I felt I owed you an explanation about what happened earlier with Mindy. And I don’t want her waking up and overhearing.”

The spring air cooled Tory’s cheeks and the soft wind blew stray strands of her hair about her face. She brushed them behind her ears, the scent of freshly mowed grass lacing the breeze. “You don’t need to explain anything.” She moved the few feet to her truck door, aware of Slade’s presence in every fiber of her being. She clutched the handle.

“After the accident, I couldn’t get Mindy to ride in a car for months. Finally she does, now, but any mention of a car wreck and she falls apart. I try to shelter her from hearing about any accidents, but sometimes I can’t.”

“Like today when she was listening to the radio.”

“She loves to listen to music. She usually listens to CDs.”

“But I turned the radio on before you could put a CD in. I’m so sorry. I didn’t know. I was just trying to help since you were focused on driving.”

He took a step toward her. Her heart skipped a beat. She plastered her back against her door, her hands tightening into fists.

“We’ve always listened to the radio while doing the chores in the barn,” she said, needing to talk to take her mind off his nearness.

“I’m not telling you to make you upset. I just wanted you to know some of the things that Mindy is still coping with.”

“Is there anything else? I don’t want to be the cause of any more anxiety.”

“She still wakes up from nightmares. Thankfully not lately. I’m hoping those are behind her.” He raked both hands through his hair, a look of anguish on his face. “Because frankly I have a hard time coping with seeing my daughter like that.”

“From what I saw back there, you did a wonderful job of reassuring her. That’s all you can do.” The hammering of her heart eased as the conversation centered on Mindy.

“Is it? There should be something else I can do to make things better for Mindy.” Rubbing one hand along the back of his neck, he rolled his shoulders to relax the tension gripping him.

But Tory saw its continual grasp on him in his taut stance and the grim lines craving his expression. “Being there for Mindy is the most important thing you can do.”

“The wreck should never have happened. If only—”

Instantly, without thought, Tory started to lay her fingers over his mouth to still his words. She froze in midaction, her eyes widening. His gaze riveted to hers. For a few seconds everything came to a standstill.

Dropping her arm to her side, she said in a strained voice, “It doesn’t do us any good to think about the what-ifs. We can’t change the past. We can only influence the present.”

“Live for today? Forget about the past?”

“Right.” If only she could heed her own advice. She was trying, but there were times it was so difficult.

“Have you been successful doing that?”

She forced a smile. “I’m working on it.”

“In other words, no.”

Tory yanked open her truck door. “I’d better be going. I still have a lot of things to do before dark.” She escaped into the quiet of her pickup, determined to keep her eyes trained forward. But even though she didn’t look at Slade, she felt his probing observation delve deep inside, seeking answers about her past, something she guarded closely and never wanted to relive. And above all, certainly didn’t want to share with anyone.

Quickly she backed out of the parking space, and as she pulled out into traffic, she chanced a glance at Slade. He stood where she had left him, a bewildered look on his face. After that evasive move, she wondered if he would bring Mindy tomorrow to the ranch.

Out on her front porch Tory eased herself into the old rocker and raised her glass of iced tea to press it against her heated face. The coldness felt wonderful after Tory had spent most of the day doing the work of two people. She needed to hire someone to help her, but that just wasn’t possible at the moment, especially after the notice she’d received from the bank today.

Resting her head, she closed her eyes and continued to roll the glass over her flushed skin. At least Slade brought Mindy out late this morning. The child’s cheerful attitude was a balm that soothed those long hours of work and her fretting over where the money for the loan was going to come from. With Mindy next to her, she repaired the fence in one pasture and even had time for the child to ride this afternoon after the three o’clock lesson. Every day Mindy was improving, self-confident when she handled the new mare.

When Tory thought about the little girl eagerly handing her the nails for the fence, Tory’s heart swelled. She wanted children so badly—her niece and nephew weren’t enough. Even the children she taught didn’t fulfill the void in her heart. It was that simple and that complex. She released a long sigh and finally took a sip of her drink.

A scream rent the air. Tory bolted to her feet, the glass crashing to the wooden planks of the porch. Leaping over the mess, she rushed for the door and wrenched it open as another scream vibrated down her length.

In the living room Mindy sat ramrod straight on the couch with her eyes so huge that was all Tory could focus on. She was at the child’s side in an instant that seemed to take forever.

Hugging Mindy to her, she murmured, “What’s wrong, baby?”

“I—I—” The child tried to drag air into her lungs, but she couldn’t seem to get a decent breath.

“Take it easy. Relax. One breath at a time, Mindy.” Tory willed her voice to stay calm while inside she quaked, the beat of her pulse roaring in her ears.

Finally Mindy managed to inhale and exhale a deep breath, then another. But the fright remained in her eyes as the little girl looked at Tory.

“I—I—heard—” Mindy started to hyperventilate.

“Nice and easy, baby. Heard what?”

“Mom-my—cry.”

Tory wanted to say the right thing. Her mind went blank. Oh, Lord, please give me the strength to help her, to soothe her pain. “Did you have a bad dream?”

Tears welled in Mindy’s eyes as she nodded. Tory framed the child’s face and tugged her toward her, laying her head on her chest and pressing her close.

“It was only a dream, baby. Not real.”

“I—know.” Mindy hiccuped. “Still—” A shudder rippled down the child’s length.

“It seemed real to you?”

Mindy nodded, her breath catching. “I didn’t—” Again the child fought for her next words. “Say—bye.”

Tory wrapped her arms tighter about the little girl, wanting to hold her and never let her go. “Did you go to the funeral?”

Mindy shook her head. “In hosp-it—” She didn’t finish the word.

“I’m sorry, baby. Have you talked to your dad about this?”

“No.” Her muffled reply came out on the end of a sob.

“He should know. Do you want me to talk to him for you?”

Mindy pulled back, tears still shining in her eyes. “Plee-ze.”

“Are you sure?”

“I—can’t make—him sad.”

Mindy’s own sadness tore at Tory’s composure, leaving it shredded. In that moment she would do anything for the child. Was this how mothers felt about their children? “Then I’ll talk to him.”

Mindy’s stomach rumbled.

“I think a certain little girl is hungry. You did a lot today. Why don’t you help me with dinner? When your father comes to pick you up, I’ll see if he would like to stay and eat.”

Mindy labored to her feet with her good hand reaching out to grasp Tory’s. “Good. Dad-dy—doesn’t—uh—cook.”

“What have you two been eating since Mrs. Watson left?”

“Piz-za—take—” frustration pinched Mindy’s features into a frown “—out.”

“Well, then tonight you two will have a home-cooked dinner. I pride myself on my cooking skills.”

Tory rose and walked with Mindy into the kitchen, a large, cheerful room with plenty of sunlight and floor-to-ceiling windows that overlooked the pasture behind the house. Blue, yellow and orange wildflowers littered the meadow as though a painter’s palette had been dumped there. A huge oak tree with a tire swing stood sentinel over the backyard.

“Do you like spaghetti?” Tory asked, going to the sink to wash her hands.

“Yes!” Mindy followed suit and used a paper towel to dry them.

“Then that’s what we’ll have. I’ll chop up the onions while you man the skillet and brown the ground beef.”

“I’m—the cook? I’ve—never.”

“You’re eight. It’s about time you started. I can teach you.” The second Tory said the last sentence she realized she might not be able to carry through with her promise. She was assuming more than she should and wished that were different. Since Mindy came into her life, she’d found an added purpose that had been lacking before.

“Wait—till—Dad-dy sees—this.” Wearing an apron, Mindy stood on a stool to brown the meat using a wooden spoon and a gloved hot pad.

An hour later the doorbell rang. Tory left Mindy to finish setting the table while she hurried into the entry hall. She opened the screen door to admit Slade, looking tired but with a smile of greeting on his face. Stepping into the house, he drew in a lungful of air, peppered with the scents of onion, ground beef and baking bread, and licked his lips.

“What do I have to do to wrangle an invitation to dinner out of you?” he asked as he made his way back to the kitchen where Mindy was seated at the large oak table in front of the bay window.

“I—picked—these.” Mindy pointed to a glass vase full of multicolored wildflowers from the meadow behind the house.