Second-Chance Cowboy Page 11

  She noticed the pile of cardboard boxes with his name scribbled on them stacked in one corner of the room and guessed his personal effects were in there, hidden away.

  As if he was afraid to settle down.

  Tabitha thought of what Nathan had told her about Morgan and her heart melted for the little boy.

  “This is my bed,” Nathan announced, jumping on it and bouncing once, as if unable to contain himself.

  “Why don’t you get under the blankets and we can say your prayers,” Morgan suggested.

  “Morgan makes me say my prayers every night,” Nathan told Tabitha, making it sound like he wasn’t crazy about the ritual.

  Oh, kiddo, you don’t know how blessed you are, Tabitha thought as she stood by the foot of the bed, watching Morgan tuck Nathan in, pulling the sheets and blankets tight around him.

  Her father had often been gone at bedtime, so it hadn’t been unusual for Tabitha and Leanne to fall asleep in front of the television. Sometimes they’d woken up in their own bed, which meant their father had moved them during the night. Sometimes they’d woken up on the couch or on the floor, which meant he either hadn’t come home or couldn’t be bothered to bring them to bed.

  How often Tabitha had wished her father would be home in the evenings. Just to simply be present in the house so it wouldn’t feel so empty and lonely.

  “May angels guard me while I close my eyes and keep me safe until I rise. Amen.” Morgan finished the prayer that Nathan recited with him, a rare moment of father-son unity.

  Morgan brushed his hand over Nathan’s forehead and, to Tabitha’s surprise, the little boy didn’t flinch away this time.

  “Good night, Nathan,” Tabitha said as Morgan stood.

  “Can you kiss me good-night, Miss Tabitha?”

  Nathan’s request was spoken so quietly, Tabitha might have missed it. But it sent a shock wave through her.

  “I don’t... I’m not sure...” Her protests were hesitant. She didn’t want to hurt his feelings, but at the same time, the boundary she thought she had set in place with this child was slowly getting eroded.

  It’s only a kiss and he’s only a lonely, sad little boy.

  It was the thought of the unpacked boxes that tugged at her emotions. So she gave in to his simple request.

  But as Tabitha bent over him, inhaling the scent of toothpaste, soap and little boy, and as she brushed a gentle kiss over his forehead, a deep yearning rose up inside her.

  Would she ever have a child of her own? A home of her own?

  Against her will, her thoughts focused on the man beside her.

  She shook them off.

  “I hope you have a good sleep, Nathan,” she said, brushing his damp hair back from his face with a gentle touch.

  He snuggled down in the blankets looking satisfied with himself.

  “Leave the door open,” he said. “And the hall light on, please.”

  Morgan nodded, and then he and Tabitha left the room.

  “Do you want a cup of coffee?” Morgan asked when they were downstairs.

  Tabitha knew it was dangerous to stay. Morgan was too appealing and she was feeling vulnerable. But she needed to tell him what Nathan had said.

  “Would you mind making it tea?” she asked. “I don’t like to drink coffee this late.”

  “You’re in luck,” Morgan said as he plugged the kettle in. “Ella likes to drink tea as well and she gave me some different varieties, plus a teapot to boot.” He pulled a large ceramic pot out of one cupboard.

  “Excellent. I’m glad Ella is on top of things.”

  “That and more. She’s a great person.”

  “And I understand she and Cord are engaged?”

  “They’ll be married in a couple of months. Probably on the ranch.”

  “It’s a beautiful place. And the house looks nice.” Tabitha walked over to the bay window of the dining room, watching the sun going down. “I imagine Cord’s first wife, Lisa, did the renovations.”

  “After she and Cord got married. Dad had moved out already. Mom was gone, so he didn’t care what Lisa changed in the house.”

  “That must have been hard for your father. Losing your mother and moving away from their home.”

  Morgan set the mugs out on the counter. “It was hard for all of us. Especially after Cord started having kids. Mom wanted to be a grandmother so badly. She was already talking about fixing up one of the rooms in the house for a nursery when Cord and Lisa got engaged. Mom was always one for looking to the future and making plans for everyone.”

  Tabitha knew far too well Morgan’s mother’s penchant for plans.

  “And now you’re a veterinarian and living in Cedar Ridge again. I think your mother would have liked that,” Tabitha said, choosing to be gracious. “I know you becoming a vet was important to her.”

  “I wish she could have been around to see it happen. She was encouraging and a support to us kids. She set high standards for us. Pushed us to achieve our potential. I really miss her.”

  Tabitha heard the obvious love in his voice and thought of him standing by her grave. She thought of her own mother, who, according to the doctors, had died of pneumonia when Tabitha was five. Leanne had often thought it was the constant moving and lack of money that wore her down.

  What would hers and her sister Leanne’s lives have been like if their mother had lived? Had she made plans for her and Leanne’s future? Had she worried about what would happen to them?

  Useless questions, she reminded herself.

  “I’m sure you do,” she said with a forced smile.

  Then Morgan frowned at her as if he had just realized something. “How do you know my being a vet was important to her?”

  Tabitha quickly realized her mistake and waved off his question. “Everyone knew. She always talked about you and what she wanted for your future.” She walked over to the kettle, which was now boiling furiously. “Where are the tea bags?” she asked, changing the topic.

  “I’ll take care of that,” Morgan said, opening another cupboard. As he did, his arm brushed hers, and Tabitha felt a frisson of attraction.

  She knew she should leave but couldn’t until she had told him about Nathan. That was the only reason she was sticking around.

  Morgan made the tea. Then she took the mugs in one hand and the sugar bowl in the other.

  “Let’s sit in the living room.” He walked ahead of her, past the dining room table, which still held some boxes as well. “I’m not completely moved in yet,” he said, jerking his chin toward the table.

  “Looks like Nathan isn’t either.” Tabitha set the mugs on the low table in front of the couch and put the sugar beside them. She settled on the couch, and then Morgan set the teapot down and sat down beside her.

  “I’ve tried and tried to get him to unpack, but the only box he would let me open was the one with his clothes.”

  “It’s like he doesn’t want to get settled,” Tabitha said.

  “I wonder if it’s because he thinks he might be moving back to his grandmother again. I know he’s mentioned her a few times.”

  “It could be. Or it could be that he’s afraid.”

  “Of what?”

  Tabitha held his puzzled gaze, praying she could find the right words.

  “He said something that gave me an idea of why he might be holding back from you,” she said.

  “Please. Tell me. I don’t know what to do anymore with him.” Morgan grabbed her hands as if hoping to draw out what she was going to say.

  Part of her wanted to pull her hands free, but the warmth of his fingers and the way they molded around hers reminded her of better times.

  How their lives had changed, she thought, looking down, tightening her fingers on his, the past melding with t
he present, older emotions blending with new ones.

  “What did Nathan say?” Morgan encouraged, bringing her back to the present.

  Tabitha hoped what he heard wouldn’t be too devastating. “Please remember this was a little boy talking. That he might have gotten things wrong.”

  “Please,” Morgan asked.

  Tabitha sent up another prayer then began.

  “He said his mother told him that you didn’t love him,” she said, keeping her voice quiet, as if that might help soften the blow. “That was why you didn’t come and visit. She told Nathan that you didn’t want him.”

  Morgan gasped.

  “She said that?” His words came out in a hiss, his jaw clenched in anger.

  Tabitha felt so sorry for him. To hear of such betrayal from the mother of your child had to hurt deeply. Did his ex-wife even stop to think what power she had over their child? What impact her words had?

  Though Tabitha’s mother died when she was only five, she still remembered things her mother had said. She still clung to the stories she’d told Tabitha. The encouragement she’d heaped on her whenever Tabitha tried to do anything.

  “I’m only going by what Nathan told me,” she continued. “I guess it doesn’t matter how Gillian said it—what matters is that he believes it.”

  Morgan withdrew his hands from hers and started massaging his temples with his fingers.

  “No wonder he pushes me away from him,” he murmured, the devastation on his face like a knife to Tabitha’s heart.

  “You know it’s not true that you don’t love him.” Tabitha placed a hand on his shoulder, trying to find a way to comfort him. “I know it’s not true.”

  “So what do I do?” he asked, the pain in his voice adding to Tabitha’s pain for him. “How do I counteract what she said? How can I show him I want to be his father? That I love him.”

  “I think you’re doing it already,” Tabitha said. “You’re here for him. You’re finding ways to show him that every day. I’m sure, in time, he’ll understand that too. You’re a good father. He’s so lucky to have you.”

  “You think so?”

  “I know so. Every child should be so blessed to have a father who cares so much about their child. I wished I did.”

  The words came tumbling out of her mouth before she could stop them.

  She read sympathy in Morgan’s eyes. Then, to her surprise, he brushed his fingers gently over her cheek. “I know your father wasn’t always around. I’m sure that was hard for you and your sister.” His hand came to rest on her shoulder, his fingers gripping it enough to anchor her.

  Tabitha’s breath felt trapped in her chest as her heart jumped at his touch, the kindness in his voice and the warmth of his hand. She wanted to make a joke to lighten the moment, but her words grew jumbled. She didn’t want to sound self-pitying but she wanted Morgan to understand.

  “He had his moments,” Tabitha said, feeling the innate need of a child to defend their parent. “He could be attentive when he wanted to.”

  “I remember him as a charming man.”

  “I’m sure your own father remembers him that way as well.” Tabitha couldn’t keep the bitter note out of her voice.

  Morgan frowned in confusion, shifting closer. She could see the five o’clock shadow on his chin, a faint smudge of dirt on his shirt from where he’d wiped his hands after gathering rocks. Smell the scent of soap from when he’d helped Nathan wash his face. His nearness resurrected memories of times in his truck when they talked, sitting with their arms around each other. The times they spent on the couch in his parents’ house when they whispered their love for each other, keeping their voices low but enjoying the delicious thrill of being alone while his family slept upstairs.

  “What do you mean by that?” he asked, his voice low, his hand still on her shoulder.

  “The arena. How my dad left town with other people’s money. Something I’m reminded of almost daily.” Tabitha tried to pull away, but Morgan held her fast.

  “You’re talking about Lorn Talbot? When we bought Nathan’s boots?”

  “Him...and others.”

  “Are you talking about the money my dad put into the arena as well? Did your dad take that?”

  “Not only took it, but left a number of businesses with unpaid bills.”

  “I heard bits and pieces about that,” Morgan said. “But just from a few things Cord had said. But I never heard it from my father.”

  Tabitha was surprised and, somehow, was even more ashamed. The brokenness of their past and the emptiness of her future combined to create a bleakness she couldn’t fight.

  To her dismay, a tear trickled down her cheek. He stroked it away with his thumb.

  “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you cry before,” he said.

  “I’m not crying.” She attempted to tamp down the upcoming tears.

  To her surprise, he pulled her close, tucking her head in the crook of his neck, and Tabitha couldn’t fight her emotions.

  She leaned into his embrace, crying silently, promising herself this was momentary. She was lonely and tired and she appreciated his support.

  “You are your own person,” Morgan said, laying his cheek on her head, holding her tightly against him. “I can’t think of anyone who works harder than you do. Fixing up that house, holding down two jobs, taking on extra work. I’ve always admired you. Even when you lived here, you always worked so hard.”

  “I had to,” she said, resting in the sanctuary he offered.

  “Because you needed the money?”

  She nodded.

  “Is that also why you dropped out of school?”

  She was tempted to tell him the truth.

  Just tell him. Let him know. Here’s a chance to lay bare the secrets of the past.

  Except she knew, after the admiring things he had said about his mother, after seeing him standing by her grave, grieving her loss, she just couldn’t do it.

  “No. That wasn’t the reason,” she said finally. “Though it helped me and Leanne that I could earn some money. It was always tight.”

  “So why did you quit school?”

  She pulled back so she could look directly at him and gauge his reaction.

  “I quit because at the time it was too hard for me and too much work.” She saw the incredulity on his face and pushed on. “I’ve got dyslexia.”

  * * *

  Morgan stared at Tabitha, incredulous.

  “You’re dyslexic?”

  “Yeah. You know how some people say life gives you lemons? Well, it gave me melons.” Her words were flippant but he heard the defensive tone in her voice as she drew away from him.

  And crowding in behind his surprise was disappointment. Old feelings of lack of trust rose up. “Why didn’t you tell me? We were dating. We were going to get married.”

  “Don’t worry. I would have known where to sign my name on the marriage license,” she returned, looking away.

  Part of him wanted to leave it be. Tabitha was always one for keeping things to herself. Just like Gillian.

  But he knew, deep down, that Tabitha wasn’t like his deceased ex-wife. That unlike Gillian, she had a strong sense of pride.

  She also had a growing connection with his son. Though it bothered him, he couldn’t deny that she had been able to discover something he wouldn’t on his own, and for that he had to be grateful.

  “I didn’t mean that as an accusation,” he said, keeping his voice quiet.

  “It sounded like one to me.”

  Oh, boy, was he doing this wrong. His sister often accused him of being too much of a guy and not enough of a man. Clearly the guy part of him was in action here.

  “I know you don’t trust me,” she continued, “but that was something that I
was deeply ashamed of and not ready to share. With anyone.”

  Her comment about his lack of trust stung even though it was true. Yes, he hadn’t trusted her when he first came back to Cedar Ridge, but he had seen a vulnerable side of Tabitha that showed him she was softer and gentler than she always came across when they were dating.

  She’s still leaving.

  “When would you have been ready to share that with me?” he asked, bringing himself back to the topic at hand.

  Tabitha drew away, wrapping her arms around her midsection. “I don’t know.”

  “You say that I haven’t trusted you and you’re right, but right about now I think it goes the other way as well.”

  Tabitha released a humorless laugh. “I guess that could be right.”

  “Please. Just tell me why.”

  She waited a moment as if trying to decide whether or not he was worthy. He stifled a beat of annoyance but waited.

  “I moved from school to school struggling with each new change, trying to adapt in so many ways. Each school was an adjustment socially and academically, which became more difficult each time,” she said, looking away from him as if delving into her past. “I was never diagnosed until right before I moved here. I thought the teachers here knew but I’m guessing my records didn’t get transferred. At least it seemed to me they didn’t. I didn’t expect to get special treatment but I thought they might understand. I had found my own coping skills. Lucky for me I had a good memory and I had a friend in Helen Jacobs, who was willing to help me out.”

  “Did she know?”

  Tabitha nodded slowly and Morgan pushed down another beat of annoyance that he had been kept in the dark about this very important issue. “Didn’t you think it would matter to me?”

  “You have to understand that I was still a teenager. Still overly worried about what people thought of me. You especially. You were always the smart one. The Walsh who had everything. When you teased me when I first came to town, it hurt more than I wanted it to. And when I found out you did it because you liked me, it meant so much to me. I didn’t want you to know because I was so thankful that you cared for me. A Rennie. As for school, I stumbled on as best as I could but then—” She stopped there, chewing her lip.