She blinked rapidly before turning to him again. “You not only haven’t turned your back on your son, you’re staying around for him. And you certainly didn’t turn your back on those children on Santa Estella. Besides, I figure maybe you and Kendra are meant for each other.”
A jolt hit his gut. “She’d tell you different.”
“Oh, she has. You ever wonder why she’s so busy telling me, you, Ellyn, herself and probably anybody else she comes up against that you and she are wrong for each other?”
“Maybe because of what you said before, about her being the fifth generation here. Her roots are sunk deep. I have no roots.”
“Of course you do. Everyone does.”
“I gave up whatever roots I had–gladly gave them up–when the Delligattis adopted me.”
“So, then you took their roots.”
“No.” He said no more. What he gave away to Marti’s scouring examination of his face, he couldn’t imagine.
“So you’re like one of those grafted plants. They do it with all sorts of plants–roses and fruit trees and grapevines and such. Put a new plant on top of old roots.”
He ordered his mouth to smile. “That sounds about right. What is the saying–neither fish nor fowl?”
“That’s what they say, but there’s one thing . . . When those grafts work, they bring the good of the new and the good of the old. Those grafted plants produce the best fruit.”
She tore off the top sheet of paper and handed it to him. “Sheriff Johnson will expect your call in the morning. And don’t be thinking I didn’t notice how you didn’t let me tell you why I think Kendra’s trying so hard to convince everyone you’re wrong for her.” Shaking her head, she stood. “Good heavens, for two brave people, you’re acting like a couple of chicken-hearted rabbits.”
Daniel remained on the bench, the paper in his hand. He gave some thought to how he might approach this job possibility.
But mostly he thought about Marti’s final words. Never before had he been called a coward, much less a chicken-hearted rabbit.
What bothered him was he suspected she had a point.
*
Daniel’s hand shook.
Making a telephone call and his hand shook.
He’d felt nothing like this yesterday when he’d called Sheriff Johnson. And when he’d gone in to see the sheriff yesterday afternoon to talk over the operation, he’d been totally at ease. Partly because he’d immediately liked the no-nonsense sheriff. Mostly because the stakes weren’t as high as they were in today’s phone call.
But he didn’t let himself hesitate as he punched in the long distance number. He’d promised himself a few weeks back–under the sting of an observation by Kendra–that when he settled his life a little he’d make this call. Thanks to Marti’s lead on this job, he’d crossed one big hurdle to settling his life. It was time to make good on that promise.
The phone rang twice before a familiar female voice answered, “Hello?”
“Hello. It’s–”
“Daniel! How good to hear your voice. Wait a moment and let me get your father. Robert! It’s Daniel. Here, I’m putting you on the speaker phone.” Faint background noise came over the line. “This phone you got us for Christmas has so many gadgets, dear, I fear we’ll never use them all. But we have enjoyed the speaker phone when you and Robert call.”
“Daniel,” said Robert Delligatti Senior. “Where are you, boy? If you can tell us, that is.”
“I can tell you–Far Hills, Wyoming.”
“Wyoming? How did you come to be there?”
“More important, Daniel, tell us how you are,” inserted Annette Delligatti.
“I’m fine. And I’ll tell you what brought me to Wyoming and what’s going to be keeping me here, but I’ve, uh, I’ve got things to tell you both. Some news. But first, there’s something. . . Something I should have said a long time ago. I . . .” He rubbed his throat. “I love you. I love you both.”
For an instant there was silence. No words, no sound of movement from the other end of the line. Then came a faint, wavery, “Oh.” And he couldn’t be sure who’d said it.
“I mean, I’ve always been grateful, and I’ve respected you–”
“Oh, Daniel, we love you, too.” That was definitely Annette. “We never wanted to push you, to make you feel obligated . . .”
The words faded into a sob. Daniel sat down abruptly. He couldn’t ever remember seeing her more than faintly teary-eyed.
“You’ve made your mother and me very happy, Daniel. You’ll never know.” Robert’s hoarse words were followed by the sound of a decisive nose-blowing.
He might never know what it was like to take in a street urchin, feed him, clothe him, educate him, discipline him, worry about him and–yes, he saw it now–love him for twenty-five years without ever having love expressed, but at least now he could imagine some of the complexity of their feelings. Now that he had a son who didn’t know he was his son.
“I hope my news will make you happy, too.” He was glad he had no witnesses to this call, because he feared he was grinning idiotically. “You might want to sit down–you’re grandparents.”
CHAPTER TWELVE
“I’ve been doing a lot of thinking, Kendra. About things you’ve said. About the Delli–about my family. About the future.”
Her heart hammered. He was leaving. All along she’d known he would. The pain still caught her unprepared.
When he’d called at the paper this morning gruffly asking to come over when she had time to talk, she’d figured her reprieve had ended. She’d had no need to explain away what happened that day it rained, because he’d made no effort to see her. He’d been at the co-op–Matthew talked about him non-stop. But she didn’t see him, didn’t hear from him, didn’t even hear of him from Marti, Ellyn or Fran. She missed him with a continuous ache.
That ache deepened and widened when she opened the back door to him at two, as arranged. Matthew was already invited to spend the afternoon at Marti’s. Kendra had planned
