204 Rosewood Lane - Debbie Macomber [110]
“I doubt it,” Maryellen said, grateful for the chance to speak honestly about her father. She couldn’t do that with Kelly, who viewed him as virtually a saint, without fault. Kelly refused to recognize the truth about their father; for some reason, she was incapable of seeing him in any other way. “You know, I can hardly remember a time when Dad was happy. He went into those dark moods, and both Kelly and I knew to avoid him.”
Grace nodded.
“He seemed to get so self-involved.” Maryellen’s memories of her father weren’t all bad, but in the months since his disappearance, those were the ones that drifted to the surface. “You can’t blame yourself, Mom.”
“I don’t,” Grace said, looking flustered. “What I’m trying to say, and doing a poor job of, is this.” She released a deep breath. “When it comes to the father of your baby, my advice is to follow your instincts. Don’t do what everyone else thinks is best, do what your own heart tells you.”
“I am, Mom, I am.”
“Then that’s all I can ask.”
Maryellen smiled and leaned over to clasp her mother’s hand. “Thanks, Mom—I needed to hear that. Now, how about some of that pasta casserole over there? I suddenly feel hungry.”
Almost a week later, on Friday afternoon, Grace was still thinking about her conversation with Maryellen. She prayed she’d said the right things. If Maryellen had decided to keep the father out of her life, there had to be a reason. At times she sensed an uncertainty in her daughter—as if she doubted her own decision—but if so, Maryellen didn’t discuss it with her. After the baby was born, Maryellen might well have a change of heart.
Her assistant, Loretta Bailey, got to the library early so Grace could leave for what she’d vaguely termed an “appointment.” As soon as Loretta showed up, Grace grabbed her sweater, eager to depart before she was barraged with unnecessary questions.
“Thanks, Loretta,” she called back as she headed out the door.
“Oh, no problem. Are you seeing that nice man friend of yours?”
She must have something taped to her forehead, Grace thought with a sigh, because Maryellen had asked her the same thing earlier, when they’d met for lunch.
“Cliff asked me to drive him to the airport.” After everything he’d done for her over the past months, it was a small thing to request. “He’s taking some of the memorabilia from his grandfather’s estate to a museum in Arizona.”
“Oh, that’s right, his grandfather was a famous Hollywood cowboy, wasn’t he?”
“The Yodeling Cowboy, Tom Houston himself.”
“I’m too young to remember his television show, but I certainly remember hearing about The Yodeling Cowboy,” Loretta said. “My brothers used to try yodeling, and all it did was frighten the neighborhood cats.”
Grace laughed and went out to the parking lot reserved for library employees.
By the time she arrived at Cliff’s place, he was packed and ready. The neighbors would be taking care of his horses and Cliff returned the favor for them when they were away.
She was a few minutes early, so Grace walked out to the paddock where several of his quarter horses grazed. As she stood by the fence, a lovely tan-colored mare trotted toward her. “Hello, Brownie,” she said, stroking the mare’s long sleek neck.
“You could have her eating out of your hand if you wanted,” Cliff said from behind Grace. “Just the same as you have me.”
He said things like that just to make her blush; Grace was convinced of it. “Ready to go?” she asked, turning away from Brownie. It was easier to ignore the comment than respond to it.
“Anytime you are.”
He loaded his suitcase into the back of her car, then got in on the passenger side. Grace pulled out of the yard, a trail of dust behind her. Two geldings raced along the fence line with her, and she admired their speed and beauty. Grace understood why Cliff chose to live this far outside town. She felt a serenity whenever she visited his small ranch. She suddenly realized that after all the