“Thanks, Harmon,” Kathleen said. She smiled at the six men who’d rescued her granddaughter. “Let’s head home, boys.”
The slow ride home took two hours. The house lights burned bright and could be seen from a mile away. Dwayne hugged Amber close during the long trek and brushed his lips on her hair countless times. “You good, squirt?”
“Daddy, I heard Skipper crying when we rode away. Did he get hurt when he chased the horses?”
He swallowed at the memory of Marla’s sobs for her tiny dog. What a bastard he was to yell at her when she was afraid for Amber and devastated over the little guy. He prayed she’d forgive him. He had a lot of apologizing to do for what he’d said. His heart squeezed into a hard, cold knot.
God, Marla, honey, I’m so sorry. Please forgive me.
“Did you hear me, Daddy?”
He cleared his throat. “Yes, sweetheart, the brave little soldier got hurt when he tried to save you.”
“Will he be all right?” Her trembling voice asked, full of worry and hope.
“I don’t think so. He was hurt pretty bad.”
Her little body jerked with a monster, choking sob. She fell forward against his arm and cried, breaking his heart. She loved the wee mutt. What would she do when they got home and learned he was dead? He dreaded every step his horse took closer to the ranch house.
Grace waited on the porch, a sweater clutched tightly around her shoulders. Cookie whistled and a couple of wranglers stepped out of the barn when the men reined in the horses.
Grace stepped to Dwayne and Amber and extended her arms. “Come to Auntie Gracie, baby.” She held her and hugged her, relief painting her face. “Let’s go in the kitchen and get warm. Cookie has cornbread and a big pot of hot cocoa on the stove.”
Dwayne dismounted, wincing when a sharp pain shot fire through his stump. He limped to the porch and immediately headed up the stairs to find Marla.
“Dwayne,” Grace called and handed Amber off to Cookie. She pressed her lips together and shook her head.
“I have to talk to her.” He couldn’t put off making amends. He loved her and she needed to hear his apology. He needed to offer it.
Dylan and Donovan walked in.
“She’s not here,” Grace said.
“Where is she? Is she hurt? I have to see her.”
“Charlene drove her and Miss Emmaline to Sheridan to get a flight back to L.A.”
Donovan sucked in a loud breath. “Charlene left?” He faced Dwayne and glared. “What in hell have you done? I should kick the shit out of you.”
Grace put her hand on Donovan’s arm. “Your wife will be back tomorrow. Marla and Emma couldn’t get a flight out tonight. They’re staying overnight at the Day’s Inn near the airport.” She linked her hand in his arm and steered him toward the phone. “Call her and let her know everybody is home safe then let’s get you something to eat.”
The scene had played out in sickening slow motion for Dwayne. He turned and sat on the stairs with a thump and dropped his head in his hands. “Jesus, God, what have I done?” He rolled his head in his hands.
Dyl sat next to him and rested a hand on his shoulder. He didn’t speak for several seconds then said, “Everything will look better in the morning. Come to the kitchen and sit down to eat with your daughter. Don’t let her see you like this.” He clapped him on the shoulder. “Suck it up, brother.”
Numb, Dwayne followed his big brother to the kitchen. He arrived in time to hear Amber’s blow-by-blow of her afternoon for the others at the table while Cookie bustled in front of the stove. For the moment, at least, she seemed to have forgotten about Skipper. He slid onto the bench next to her and kissed her head.
A few minutes into her recitation, Kathleen entered the kitchen and lifted the big, stainless steel coffeepot off the stove. “I’ll take this out to the men in the barn, Cookie.”
Cookie nodded and said, “I’ll get the other one going pronto. You come right back and eat some supper. Those cowboys can look after themselves.” She turned and set a big plate of steaming cornbread on the table next to a crock of home-churned butter.
Dwayne’s stomach rebelled at the thought of food. He shifted and rubbed his knee. His vision blurred with unshed tears. Marla had left him. His fault. There was no excuse for the way he’d treated her. His mind flooded with self-hatred.
All he wanted to do was drag his tired bones and aching leg up the stairs and fall in bed, but he wouldn’t leave somebody else break the news to Amber about Skipper. No. He wasn’t that much of a coward. He stroked Amber’s hair and listened to her chatter away.
As much as he loved his daughter, and it was immeasurable, he knew to the depths of his soul how desperately he needed Marla in his life. He spoke in Amber’s ear, “When you finish eating let’s go sit in Grandpa’s chair by the fireplace.”
She yawned. “I’m done, Daddy.”
He stepped over the bench and lifted her into his arms. The rest of the family stayed put. He was grateful to them for that. In the living room, he sat in his grandpa’s big old recliner and rested Amber’s back against his chest. “Do you know how much I love you?”
“Uh huh. Me too.” She tilted her head and met his eyes. “Was that skinny, mean lady rilly my mom?”
He sighed and ran his hand up and down her fragile arm. “Yes, baby. Francine is your birth mother, but she couldn’t be a mom for you. She’s had a lot of problems in her life. Don’t hate her. I’m sure she loved you when you were born, but then things happened, and she ran away. I
