Authors: Brenda Minton
“Let me give you a lift home, Bill,” Dylan offered as he pushed the door open.
“That would be good of you, Dylan.” Bill gave Harmony a cautious look. “Will that be okay with you, Miss Cross?”
“Of course it is, Bill. And please call me Harmony.”
“I sure appreciate you stopping by today.” He patted her arm, an awkward gesture, Dylan thought. He walked behind the two of them. Cash and Callie were holding his hands, and Cash was doing his favorite number, leaning to one side and pretending to go limp.
“Stand up and walk, Cash,” Dylan warned with a smile. “Or I'll just have to throw you over my shoulder like a bag of flour.”
“Flowder. Flowder.” Cash giggled and let his knees buckle. Dylan lifted the little boy and tossed him over his shoulder, holding him by the ankles. Cash continued to laugh and then Callie mimicked her brother, letting her legs buckle.
“Another sack of flour?” Dylan grabbed up the little girl and let her hang over his other shoulder. “I'm not sure what I'll do with all this flour.”
Harmony was telling Bill goodbye, her eyes bright and all of the shadows gone. He let the kids slide to the ground.
“I'll see you at church tomorrow?” Dylan asked as he opened the truck door. Cash clambered into his seat and Callie pulled the straps over his shoulder to buckle him in. As Dylan walked away he heard Cash telling his sister, “Me. Me.”
Because all of a sudden the little guy wanted to do it on his own. Dylan followed Harmony to her car, remembering that he'd promised his mom something.
“Will you eat lunch with us at the ranch tomorrow?”
She had already opened her car door and she turned toward him. He had noticed earlier that her dark blue sundress made her eyes look like an evening sky. He noticed that she hadn't used her cane and that she now rested her left foot, putting most of her weight on her right leg.
He noticed a lot about Harmony Cross. He noticed that her lips parted, ever so slightly and a man could drown in the depths of those blue eyes. He also noticed that he'd been reduced to thinking poetic thoughts that would have his brothers giving him a hard time if they knew.
“I'm not sure.”
“Big plans?”
“No, it just...” She looked away. “It's me. It just isn't that easy.”
“I understand.”
She looked up at him. “Thank you.”
“You don't have to thank me. But if you are at church, the invitation to lunch still stands. And give yourself a break, Harmony. You should see yourself through my eyes, or through Cash and Callie's eyes. Even the eyes of the people in the nursing home. You're judging yourself pretty harshly, but you're not giving yourself much room for forgiveness.”
“Maybe I don't deserve it.”
“Oh, come on. You're punishing yourself for something you can't undo.”
“But if I could...”
“You can't. What you
can
do is see that maybe you can be the person you were always meant to be. And that person has a gift that she's using to minister to people in this place. You're more than the mistakes you've made.”
“That person is lucky to have you for a friend.” She laced her fingers through his. “I should go. But thank you.”
He should have walked away, but didn't. Instead he moved to brush his lips against her cheek. Somehow his mouth captured hers in the sweetest kiss. Her hand was still in his and he pulled her close. He moved his other hand to her back and felt her shiver beneath his touch.
Her lips parted beneath his and he drew in a breath, needing air, needing her. Every other sweet moment they had shared paled in comparison to this. Because this was real, more real than anything he'd ever experienced with any other woman. He slid his hand up her back, settling it between her shoulders. Her hair curled over his skin.
They were in a parking lot in front of the nursing home in the afternoon. As he kissed her, wanting to hold her close for a long time, he remembered. They also had truckloads of reasons for not getting involved.
For a few minutes it didn't matter. And for a few minutes he'd allowed himself to be a single man attracted to a beautiful woman. It had been a long time. Maybe that explained the need to hold her close, his lips now resting in her hair, close to her ear. He breathed in the soft scent of lavender.
Yes, that was it. He hadn't dated in over a year. Hadn't even thought about dating. Knowing that, he should be able to put things in perspective.
“Dylan.” Her voice was shaky. “I should go.”
He nodded, still holding her close. “Yes, you should.”
He let her go, releasing her hand from his. She stepped back, composed, her breathing steady. He wanted her to be as unsettled as he was. Maybe she was. Maybe the way she avoided his gaze was Harmony unsettled, undone. He watched as she fidgeted and he tried to come up with the right words to say goodbye, or that he was sorry.
“Harmony...”
“Don't say something stupid.”
He laughed a little. “Well, I'm not sure if I can say something intelligent.”
“Then tell me you'll see me tomorrow and I'll get in my car and leave.”
“I'll see you tomorrow.”
She nodded at that. And then she didn't get in her car. She looked up at him, unsmiling. “And we won't do that again.”
Dylan brushed a hand across his cheek and grinned. “I never make a promise I can't keep.”
With that he walked away, chuckling a little because he heard her exasperated sigh as she got in her car. Good, he was getting under her skin. That seemed only fair, because she was definitely getting under his.
And one promise he knew he could keep was that he would kiss her again. Soon.
Chapter Eleven
O
n her way to church the next morning, Harmony made a stop at the nursing home. She parked close to the door in the patient loading zone. She'd noticed Bill Tanner's truck parked a short distance away. She found the Tanners in the dining room. Breakfast was over and the tables were being cleared and reset for lunch. Doris smiled and waved when she saw Harmony.
“What are you doing here this morning?” Doris asked, her speech still halting from the stroke.
“I came to see if you'd like to go to church. I know Bill can sign you out of here, but I didn't know if you could get in his truck.” Harmony smiled at Bill and he winked, actually winked. The gesture made it even easier for her to smile.
Being part of their lives made her feel as if she was a part of something real. She had the Tanners, she had Dylan and the kids. It was a life. Not the life she was used to, but maybe one that would begin her second chance. And it felt good.
“I think that would be dandy,” Bill agreed with a big smile. He reached to pat his wife's hand. “What do you think, Doris?”
“It would be good to go to church. They have services here, but isn't the same as being in my church.” Doris smiled up at her husband, and Harmony felt a pang of envy.
She didn't allow the feeling to take root. Instead she helped Doris get ready, and then they loaded up in Harmony's car. Doris exclaimed over the interior. Bill grumbled as he climbed in the backseat.
A few minutes later they pulled in to a handicapped parking space at the church. A few people gave them looks. Harmony was used to the looks. She'd dealt with them since the accident. From the outside she looked healthy. She had a great car. She had a young body.
She shouldn't be parking in the handicapped space.
But as she put up the blue card, hanging it from her mirror, people always looked, they always talked. Sometimes she parked in regular parking, just to avoid the embarrassment.
Today she had Doris, though. She got out of the car and Bill was already getting Doris the wheelchair that they'd stowed in the trunk. He opened it and then helped his wife out, settling her in the seat, arranging her hair and her clothes.
“Look who made it to church!” The voice behind her nearly made Harmony jump, even though she recognized it almost immediately. She waved at Cash and Callie, then met Dylan's steady gaze.
“Look who nearly made me have a heart attack.” She smiled as she said it.
“You picked up Doris!”
“You don't have to act so surprised.” She stepped onto the sidewalk, moving to catch up with Doris and Bill. But they were quickly surrounded by friends.
Dylan reached for her arm. “Do you want to go to the drive-in movie this evening?”
She glanced up, unsure. “There isn't a drive-in for miles around.”
Callie started to say something but he stopped her with a finger to his lips. “Yes, there is,” he said with a mysterious smile.
“Really? And what's showing?”
“I'm not really sure, but I can guarantee it'll probably be a cartoon.”
She was curious, how could she not be. And curiosity had so often been her downfall. She sighed and gave in. “Okay, I'll go to the drive-in.”
As they made their way up the ramp to the front doors of the church, Callie hung back, taking hold of her hand. Cash followed Dylan, helping him and Bill push Doris up the ramp. It felt like any other Sunday morning, really. It felt normal. It felt as if she had always been here, had always been this person who went to church, helped others, held the hand of a little girl.
She hadn't been this person in such a long time. She wanted to keep being this Harmony, not the one she'd left behind. As they walked through the front doors of the church, they were greeted by Pastor Wyatt Johnson.
Harmony remembered him as the young man who had team roped and chased girls. He'd been older than her, but she'd known him, and known the older girls who had chased him back.
“Harmony, good to see you here today.” He shook Dylan's hand and then reached for hers. “Would Tuesday evening work for you?”
Had she signed up for something?
“The recovery program,” Wyatt explained.
“Oh, of course. Tuesday.” She remembered a conversation at the Mad Cow when they had discussed the program and she'd agreed to take part.
“Good. I'll have Rachel give you a call when we know for sure.”
Before she could really think about what she had agreed to, a hand touched her arm, pulling her from thoughts that included how to get out of a local meeting. Harmony glanced up, expecting Dylan. Instead Myrna Cooper beamed at her. Her gray hair was short, her makeup perfect and a string of pearls hung from her neck.
“Mrs. Cooper, it's good to see you. I heard you were on a cruise.” Harmony looked around, searching for Dylan, Cash or Callie. She'd been left alone, left in the clutches of a notorious matchmaker. Dylan should have known better.
“Why, Harmony Cross, you look wonderful. And yes, I have been on a cruise. Winston and I were married last spring and we've been having a wonderful time.”
“I'm so happy for you.”
Myrna slipped an arm through Harmony's, latching them together in a way that was unmistakable. “I'm happy for you, too. I hear you've been spending time with that grandson of mine. It's good that he has you to help him out.”
“We've been helping each other out, Mrs. Cooper.”
Myrna tsk-tsked a few times. “Harmony, you've known me too long to call me Mrs. Cooper. You can call me Granny Myrna. Besides, I'm not Mrs. Cooper. I'm a married woman now. And let me tell you, there is nothing better than marriage to a good man.” Myrna stopped and gave her a long look. “Now what is that frown for?”
“I didn't frown.” Harmony managed a smile to prove her point.
“Why, honey, that's the most hangdog look on a young woman. As pretty as you are, there should be men waiting in line for you.”
“I'm really not looking, Myrna.”
“No, of course you aren't. But when you aren't looking, that's when the perfect man comes along and steals your heart.”
Harmony looked around, wishing for an escape, not a man. Well, maybe a man to rescue her would be nice. Myrna pointed her toward empty seats near the rest of the Coopers. Dylan reappeared, this time without children.
She shot him a pleading look and he returned it with a grin that might have meant he was leaving her with his grandmother. At the last possible moment he moved to her side, claiming her.
They took their seats just as the choir stepped forward. Harmony looked around and saw that Bill and Doris had taken seats with friends. That left her to settle in next to Dylan, with Jackson Cooper on her other side.
Once upon a time she'd attended this church, sitting in a pew with her family. She'd never doubted God. Never doubted her faith. If someone had told her that there would be a day when she yelled at God, angry with her life, she never would have believed it.
It had all happened, but as she sat there listening to the sermon she realized that faith was coming back to her, slowly, piece by piece. She was trusting again. Maybe it was true, that when she made it through, she would be stronger. Her faith would be stronger.
A verse came to mind.
When you go through the fire, I will be with you.
Dylan reached for her hand. She glanced at him, surprised by the gesture, more surprised by the look in his eyes. He wouldn't let her down, his expression said. But she could let him down. Didn't he see that?
His hand held hers tight, refusing to let her go. She squeezed his back, but avoiding looking at him again. Her heart ached, wishing she didn't have to let go. Ever.
* * *
After church Dylan had walked with Harmony to her car. He'd helped get Doris settled in the front passenger seat. He'd helped get her wheelchair in the trunk. He refrained from kissing Harmony goodbye as Bill had climbed in the back and she'd taken her seat behind the wheel.
He'd kept a good handle on his emotions, pretending he walked a woman to her car every Sunday and wished he didn't have to say goodbye. It had crept up on him, this need to hold her close. During the service he'd done a lot of praying for some common sense to get hold of his emotions. He knew he was impulsive. Impulsive had kept him in Texas for a little better than a year. Impulsive had been with him when he signed his name to legal papers giving him permanent custody of Callie and Cash.
Impulsive had taken hold of him when he proposed to Harmony. It had been a joke. He'd said it the way a person said something funny and impossible.
As much as he wanted to count Harmony off as another impulsive move in his life, she wasn't. He knew people would think she was. That's what they were used to from him. Some called him spontaneous. Others called him thoughtless or rash. Maybe he had doubts of his own. Of course he did. How could he trust his judgment when he'd spent almost twenty-eight years rushing into things because it felt right?
What he was coming to terms with was the fact that Harmony Cross felt more than right. She felt like forever. And it scared the daylights out of him.
He didn't want to rush things. And he didn't think she was ready to believe anyone wanted her in their lives forever. He had a strong suspicion that Harmony Cross doubted herself more than she let on.
What did surprise him was that she didn't show up for the movie at Cooper Creek. She had skipped out on lunch, telling him she planned on having lunch at the nursing home with Doris and Bill. But she had accepted the offer to eat dinner with his family and then watch a movie.
Callie had been allowed to pick out the movie while in town with Dylan's mom. The big screen was set up on the lawn, and there were lawn chairs and blankets to sit on. They'd made popcorn and thrown soda in the cooler. It mattered to him that Harmony show up.
When everyone started to ask questions, he made excuses. Said maybe she'd be a little late. He tried her cell phone and she didn't answer.
His family didn't say anything even though the sun had gone down and they were waiting. Dylan didn't want to admit, to them or to himself, but fear was knocking on the door with a pretty heavy hand.
There were a lot of what-ifs going through his mind when his mom put a hand on his shoulder. “Go check on her. I'll watch Cash and Callie.”
He did his best to pretend he wasn't waiting for her car to come up the drive. “I'm sure she's fine.”
“Of course she is, but you're standing there worrying about everything that could be wrong, and if you don't go over there, you'll form conclusions.”
“She's a grown woman.”
“Yes, she is. Even grown women need help from time to time.”
He grabbed his hat off the hook next to the door. I'll be back in a few minutes.”
“We'll be here.”
He jumped in his truck and headed toward the Cross Ranch. There were no lights on inside. The barn looked pretty quiet, too. Her car was in the driveway. He headed for the house. That's when he saw her on the porch. She smiled at him, wan, tired, close to tears.
“What are you doing here?” She evaded his gaze, and he wondered, was she good at hiding when she'd been using?
He sat down in the rocking chair next to hers, unsure. “I came for you. Do I need to call someone?”
She laughed a little but without humor. “Oh, welcome to âthis is your life with an addict, Dylan Cooper.' Always wondering, always doubting, always convinced they'll fall. For the first couple of months out of rehab, my parents monitored my phone calls, my texts and they regularly checked my room, my purse and my bathroom.”
She paused, then said, “Not that I blamed them. It's what they had to do, even when it hurt.”
He felt a sudden rush of anger that he hadn't expected to feel. He had two kids waiting for a movie, waiting for her. He didn't have time for games.
“Funny, but I thought you were a recovering addict, not an addict.”
“I'm 155 days clean. I mark the days off on a calendar. I'm fighting, Dylan. I came to Dawson because I wanted to fight in private.”
“Did you...” he started to ask, but then didn't know if he wanted the answer.
She shook her head. “No, I didn't. I told you, I'm fighting.”
“Why are you sitting out here?”
“Because when the pain is at its worst, I need a way to distract myself. I'm counting stars. I'm listening to crickets. I'm trying to get inside. This is as far as I could make it. And it seemed better out here, less lonely. The problem is, my phone is in there.”
“What can I do?” His anger had already fled and in its place, concern.
She shook her head and he saw her stiffen, then pull her legs in close. She looked up at the darkening sky. “Promise me you won't stop being my friend. I've lost a lot of friends.”
“I am your friend.”
“I know that, but you have no idea how hard it is to stay in my life. I had a voice mail today from Amy's fiancé. He wanted me to know that if I hadn't called her for a ride, they would have been married.”
He didn't have words to help her, not this time. He reached for her hand. “Let's go.”
“Go? Haven't you heard me? I'm trying to tell you this is wrong. It isn't good for you. Tonight you wondered if I was using. You should be with Callie and Cash, not here worrying about me.”
“I can do both.”
“Where are they?”
She meant Callie and Cash. “With my mom, waiting.”
“So now your family is pulled into the drama.” She shook her head. “Don't you see? This isn't what I wanted for you, for your family. My life is all about drama. Amy told me that, you know. When she picked me up at the party, she told me I had to stop the drama and get help. She told me she couldn't help me anymore. It was the last time, she said. No more bailing me out, picking me up or rescuing me. No more being my enabler.”