Authors: Brenda Minton
“I know that.” Man, how he knew it.
As he headed for the barn the dog joined him. The border collie wagged his tail and barked a few times before running on ahead. It wasn't just him now.
The truth of his mom's warning hit him hard. This is what it meant when something came at a guy from left field. Unexpected.
Harmony was in the house, wondering what she'd done wrong and really, he couldn't think of anything. He had his own stuff to figure out, he guessed.
She had hers.
They had both hit some pretty serious walls in the last year. So maybe Harmony had been right, pulling back and not stepping too deep into his life. Maybe he'd been wrong, rushing forward toward something that felt right at the moment.
He headed for the barn and saw Gage walk out the side door, whistling a song and looking altogether too happy. Layla and Gage were expecting a baby. They were as happy as two people could be.
Dylan wanted that. He'd never realized that he wanted it. He wanted someone to come home to. He wanted someone to have babies with. Yeah, he wanted the whole package. Cash and Callie should have a real family, a mom and dad and siblings.
“Hey, you here to help?” Gage asked as he headed for the tractor parked next to the barn.
“Yeah, I guess I am. What do you want me to do?”
Gage turned to look at him. “You're such a morning person.”
“No, I'm really not.” Dylan picked up a stick and tossed it for the dog. “I'm here to work, if you let me know what to do.”
“We're going to finish baling that hay on the forty acres behind the house. And then I guess we'll move the bales on the twenty.”
“I'll start moving those bales if you're going to take the baler. Pretty decent hay for a fall crop.” Dylan started toward the barn. “Where's Jackson?”
“Inside, figuring out what bulls we're taking to Oklahoma this weekend.”
“Gotcha. Okay, I'll start moving bales.”
“You okay?” Gage called out as he walked away.
Dylan shot his brother a look. “I said I'm fine.”
Gage laughed at that. “Right, okay, we'll go with that answer. But if you need anything...”
It irked him that his little brother thought that because he was married he could give advice. He shook his head as he climbed inside the farm truck parked in front of the barn. He was just fine. Yeah, sure his insides were twisted in knots, but he could handle that. He could handle the thought of Harmony packing up and leaving in a few weeks and how much it was going to hurt Cash and Callie.
How much it was going to hurt him.
Chapter Thirteen
D
oris put away the crochet she'd been trying to explain to Harmony. “You're not listening.”
Harmony smiled. It was Tuesday and she was going to the recovery meeting in thirty minutes. She had to admit the idea was consuming her thoughts for the moment. And Doris should be the focus of her attention. Doris who had agreed to teach her to crochet.
“I'm sorry. I've always been knitting-and-crochet challenged.”
“Because you have other things on your mind. The lovely thing about crocheting, Harmony, is that you can lose yourself for an hour or two. You can focus on the yarn and what you're creating. And not think.”
To not think. Harmony loved the concept. She'd love to turn off her mind for a few hours and not think. Not think about the future, the past, the nightmares. The nightmares weren't as bad as they had been, though. Maybe time had helped. Or maybe she was finally coming to terms with the accident.
Doris patted her hand. “Stop thinking.”
Harmony nodded and managed a smile. “So, they're going to let you start going home on weekends. I bet Bill is happy.”
“Happy and scared. But I'm doing so much better. I'm not in that chair anymore, just using this walker. I can talk again. I'm so ready to go home.”
“I know you are.” Because Harmony remembered first the physical-rehab facility after the accident and then drug rehab. She knew how it felt to be in a place like this, unable to really care for herself the way she once had, unable to walk out the door, unable to find a place to be alone.
And lonely. She knew how it felt to be lonely even when surrounded by people.
“There you go again. You are distracted today.”
She managed another granny square because they'd decided she couldn't crochet a straight line. “I have a group meeting in thirty minutes.”
“You'll be just fine, Harmony. You're strong.”
“Thank you for thinking that.”
“It's the truth. Sweetheart, you need to believe in yourself. But you also need to have faith.”
“I'm getting there.”
“It isn't always easy.” Doris put her nearly finished afghan on the bed next to her. “I can admit I've been angry with God. I've been hurt. And I've found it is so much easier when I give myself over to His love. Let Him give you peace. Stop acting like you don't deserve it.”
Did she deserve peace? She drew in a breath, fighting the sting of tears that came without warning.
“Doris, I think there was more to me pulling up your drive that day than to just buy a horse.”
“Of course there was. And it isn't just about you, Harmony. I can't imagine us going through this without you, and because of you we also have Dylan. It's...” Doris sniffled a little. “It's like having family. The two of you mean so much to us.”
Harmony stood and leaned to kiss Doris's cheek. “You mean a lot to me, too.”
“Go, you're going to make me cry.” Doris shooed her away. “And when you go to this meeting, think about what I've said to you.”
She nodded, hugged Doris one last time and left. As she walked down the hall and out the front door, she thought about how much stronger she was. She was stronger physically, emotionally and maybe spiritually. When she went home, back to Nashville, she would be able to start over with that in mind. She knew herself better than she had before the accident.
A few minutes later she pulled up to Back Street Community Center, where the recovery meetings had been moved to. There were a dozen cars in the parking lot. Harmony parked and as she did she saw Lucky Cooper's wife. The other woman smiled at her and waited on the sidewalk. Angie Cooper's daughter-in-law who was struggling with alcoholism. Now Harmony understood. Every family had struggles.
“I'm glad you could make it,” Eva Cooper, Lucky's wife, said as she walked next to Harmony. “It gets easier.”
“I hope so.” Harmony drew in a breath and straightened her shoulders. She could do this.
And she did do it. She walked through the doors, smiled at the people sitting at tables, smiled at Wyatt Johnson and took a seat next to Eva.
The group started with music and prayer. Wyatt Johnson explained that the group was about coming together to face emotional pain, addiction, and other behaviors that led to broken lives. Harmony thought maybe she fit in all categories. How to go forward with a broken life, a broken heartâthat was the message of the day. It was a message for her life, she thought.
At the end of the meeting Eva Cooper sang a song that fit the theme, about knowing that in all things we know we can survive loss and that we can be held by God. Even when a person feels as if they have failed, they can still have God's love.
Somehow Harmony found herself at the altar, pouring her pain out to God, allowing Him to take it from her. She knew as Eva prayed with her that this was the first time she'd really allowed God to take the pain. She'd been holding on, punishing herself with it, knowing she deserved to feel pain.
As she stood Eva hugged her tight and told her this was a step forward. The others had left. The two of them walked out of the building, leaving Wyatt to lock up. Eva gave her a hug when they reached the parking lot.
“Call if you need anything,” Eva offered.
“Thank you, I will.”
“And when you do leave, make sure you find a good program in Nashville.”
“I'll do that.”
A truck pulled in the parking lot. Eva gave her a look. “I think someone is here to see you.”
“Some people don't know what's good for them.”
Eva laughed at that. “Are you talking about yourself or my brother-in-law?”
“Your brother-in-law, of course.”
Eva left and Harmony walked to her car, unlocking the door and waiting. She didn't have to wait long. Dylan stepped out of his beat-up old truck and headed her way. His jeans were smudged with dirt and there was a rip in the elbow of his shirt. But he looked good, even with the five-o'clock shadow covering his cheeks.
“You look like you've been dragged through the dirt.”
He brushed at the dirt on his jeans and smiled up at her. “We've got a couple of new bulls. It's been a long day.”
“Are the kids with you?”
“Heather has them. I'm heading that way to get them. I thought maybe I'd pick up fried chicken at the Mad Cow and bring it over to your place for dinner.”
“Dylan, I don't know.”
“You have to eat. Callie misses you.” He shrugged and grinned. “I miss you. And I thought we'd work with Beau.”
He knew she wouldn't turn down the offer to work with her horse. “I can brush him now without any problems.”
“He's coming along.”
She didn't know what else to say. She'd just had a major revelation about herself, about punishing herself by holding on to the pain. Not that the grief would go away that easily, but she was coping. What did she do about Dylan?
“You're not going to turn down fried chicken, are you?”
She slid behind the wheel of her car and smiled up at him. “Sounds good. See you in thirty minutes?”
“That sounds about right.”
And then he walked away, a cowboy who knew how to be a dad, how to be a friend, and how to make her feel safe. She didn't think he'd planned it this way.
But it had happened. It was happening.
* * *
Dylan helped Callie and Cash out of his truck. He was really going to have to trade the two-door for a four-door. After the kids were on the ground and heading for Harmony's front door, he reached in and pulled out the to-go container that Vera had filled with fried chicken, mashed potatoes and gravy. The aroma had filled the cab of his truck and his stomach growled in response.
Harmony met him at the front door. She leaned against the door frame and he knew, because he'd been watching her, that she did this when she was worn-out from a long day. The kids were already inside, pulling toys and books out of a box she'd filled for them. A lamp glowed from the corner, casting the room in warm light. Harmony stepped away from the door and Dylan offered her a hand that she took without arguing.
“Thank you.” She didn't look up as she said it.
The two of them made their way to the dining room off the big country kitchen. The table had been set.
It all looked a little too much like a home where a family belonged. As they sat down to eat, it started to rain. Harmony reached for his hand and then took Callie's hand on her left side.
He took the hint, removed his hat and bowed his head. A whole bunch of thoughts crowded a mind that should have been focused on thanking the Good Lord for his blessings. Two kids that smiled more. A woman sitting next to him, her hand in his.
Somehow he managed a prayer that thanked God but didn't get too specific.
Thunder crashed outside, rattling the windows. Lightning streaked across the sky. Callie looked up, a mouth full of chicken, her eyes widening at the continuing ruckus of the storm.
“It's just rain, Callie.” He nodded at her plate. “Go ahead and eat.”
“It's scary,” she whispered, moving a little closer to Harmony's side.
“If you close your eyes and listen, it's a good sound.” Harmony led by example, closing her eyes and looking peaceful. “Hear the rain on the roof?”
She looked down at Callie and smiled. Callie still had her eyes closed but she didn't look convinced of Dylan's way of thinking. Callie looked up, shaking her head.
“It's still scary.”
“Keep your eyes closed and listen. Rain is like music. And the rain makes everything grow, even flowers.”
Callie sighed and eventually the fear passed. He thought about Harmony, and how often she had to convince herself the fear or pain she felt wasn't real. The other night she'd told him counting stars gave her something to focus on. And now she was having Doris teach her to crochet. Another distraction.
Harmony finished eating and stood to carry her plate to the kitchen. She took Dylan's empty plate and the plastic plate Cash had used. Callie was still eating chicken.
“I'm going to help Harmony do the dishes, Callie. You finish eating, okay?”
“But the storm.” Callie looked up at him, eyes wide with fear.
“The storm is outside and we're all right here together.”
“Okay.” But she didn't sound convinced.
Dylan walked into the kitchen where Harmony was loading the dishwasher. He saw what she needed, a kitchen stool in the corner of the room. He brought it to her and the cane that had been leaning against the pantry.
“Sit.”
“You're bossy.” But she didn't argue. She peered past him, smiling at something she saw in the dining room.
Dylan looked, to make sure everything was okay, that Cash hadn't climbed onto the ceiling fan or something equally dangerous. Callie had moved to Cash's side and was sitting close, telling him he didn't have to be afraid of the storm.
“Mommy's in heaven and storms come from heaven.” Callie's voice was soft, her hand patting Cash's.
Dylan closed his eyes, wishing kids didn't have to suffer that kind of pain. Harmony leaned her head against his shoulder and her arm wrapped around him, pulling him close.
“They're getting through it the way kids do, by making sense of it.”
He glanced down at her and he saw in her eyes the pain of understanding. Of course she knew what it was like to be a little girl left alone. But in a way that he couldn't even begin to imagine.
“Don't kiss me, Dylan.”
He backed away, surprised by the order, surprised that it was exactly what he'd planned to do. He'd been close and she was easing herself off the stool and returning to the dishwasher.
“Don't kiss you?”
She loaded the few glasses in the sink and closed the door of the dishwasher. “No more. We have to stop. Somewhere along the way, our perfect plan has turned into a perfect mess.”
“It might be messy but I didn't think it was a mess.”
She leaned on the cane and walked past him, to the fridge. She put away ketchup and juice before looking at him again.
“It is a mess and you know it. We're making it messy by letting ourselves think that what we started out with has become real. We've crossed the lines.”
“I've always been bad at not staying in the lines,” he teased.
She shot him a warning look. And then Callie was calling out to them, telling them Cash wanted out of the high chair and the lightning was really bad. So much for working with the horse.
Dylan helped Cash down from the high chair. When he turned back around Callie had hold of Harmony's hand, trying to convince her she was afraid of storms, too.
“I promise I'm not afraid of storms, Callie.”
Dylan guessed she probably wasn't, but he knew something she was afraid of. She was afraid of what she was feeling. She was afraid of letting himâthemâin her life.
“Can I stay the night with Harmony?” Callie asked, still holding on to Harmony's hand like it was a life preserver.
Dylan looked at Harmony, and she nodded. “I guess you can,” he answered.
Callie looked up at Harmony, big eyes and serious intent. “I can sleep in her bed and she can tell me a story.”
Dylan agreed. “Yes, she can.”
Those were the things a little girl missed, he guessed. He tried but he knew he didn't always get it right. Katrina had taught him to do her hair. She'd taught him about dresses, little-girl shoes and the right soaps to use.
The rest had been up to him to learn. Katrina had left them way too soon. She should have had more years with her kids. She should have watched them grow up. It wasn't fair that she'd had to leave them with him.
He heard Harmony tell Callie she'd put on a movie for them, and yes, Callie could pick a cartoon. And then a hand touched his, leading him back to the dining room.