Promise Kept (18 page)

He nodded.

“Do you like school?”

He nodded again. “I haven’t been in a while,” he said in a soft voice.

“You will again, I’m sure. In the meantime, we’re going to have a lot of fun.”

“Do you have horses?” he asked.

Ray chuckled. “Lots of them. Do you ride?”

“I rode Lily.”

“I think you’ll like Snowman. He’s just your size.”

“Snowman?”

“C’mon, I’ll introduce you.”

They headed toward the barn. Phyl turned to Ted and Harry. “Will you stay?” Did she need that much protection? It seemed so peaceful here. Certainly no one knew where they were. Then there was Ray, former FBI. He probably carried a gun everywhere, even here on the ranch.

“We’ll switch out. I’ll stay the first week, Harry the next.”

They weren’t taking any chances. Would she ever get used to having someone watching her every move? She didn’t think so.

Her gaze swept over what she could see of the ranch. There would be plenty to do here, if they’d let her. They had to. She would feel better if she worked.

Mark ran toward her with a mile-wide grin on his face.

“You gotta see, Mom! Snowman is beautiful. You know how he got his name? His hair is white as can be. So is his mama’s. Wait until you see. Mr. Ray says I can ride Snowman, and you can ride Snowflake. Isn’t that cool?”

At least Mark would be content. It was a beautiful place. She could see Donovan here with her—riding—working. She shook her head to erase the picture before she burst into tears.

The part of her heart that belonged to him, cried out to hear his voice, feel his touch. Mostly, to know his thoughts.

No matter how short her stay or how busy she kept herself, it would be too long. She had to see him. She had to see Nellie, and she had to know if the Callahans, especially Donovan, would have her back.

****

Donovan cursed himself a dozen times over. He should have insisted Phyl come home with him. But after being ganged up on by the FBI and a U.S. Marshal, he realized the danger. If he couldn’t keep them safe and something happened to either one of them, how would he be ever live with himself?

When Phyl had walked through that door and looked at him with those brown eyes shining, he’d gone weak in the knees. She was so wonderful, and he cared for her and Mark so much. How could he take the chance?

So, instead of grabbing her and running like he’d wanted to, he’d mumbled some nonsense and left.

He should have told her he wanted them to come home with him. Rubbing a hand over his face, he realized the reason he hadn’t. Seeing her safe had brought him close to tears and the words wouldn’t come.

She had to know how much she meant to him—how much both of them meant.

He’d get Max to find out where they were. He could at least talk to her.

The next plane for San Antonio didn’t leave for another hour. He made a few calls. Waited some more, finally landing in San Antonio in mid-afternoon. Instead of rushing back to the ranch, he had a couple of errands to take care of.

The first was to an address his investigator had given him.

Walking into the building, he asked the receptionist where he could find Cal. She looked up his name in a company directory. “Let me see if he’s working the first or second shift.” She checked, “You’re in luck,” she said, and made a quick call. “He’ll be here in a minute.”

Sure enough, a minute later, Cal walked in. He looked different. His face was wreathed in smiles, and there was a contented look in his eyes Donovan hadn’t seen much on the ranch.

“What are you doing here?” Cal asked.

Cal’s grin belied the hurt the episode at the ranch had caused. “I came to apologize. I was an ass, and had no right to say and do what I did.”

“No, you didn’t. But the more I thought about it, the more I understood why.”

“Yeah?”

“You love Phyl. How else would you act if you thought someone was hurting her?”

Love? Was that what he felt?

Donovan threw an arm over the boy’s shoulder. “Show me what you do here, and how you like it.”

For the next thirty minutes, Donovan saw how a newspaper was put out, how much work went into it, and how much Cal loved his job.

“You’ve found your niche, Cal. Congratulations.”

“Would you tell Phyl? She worried about how long it would take to find what I wanted to do with my life. But this is it. I’m learning the business from the ground up. That’s the best way, Mr. Proctor says. He also said I have good potential.” He beamed at Donovan. “The boss is letting me go to school three days a week, and work three. It’s perfect. He says that the digital age is here, and he wants me to be at the forefront of it.”

They made their way to the reception area. “I have to get back to work, but I want an invite to the wedding.”

Donovan grinned, not sure how to answer. “I’ll be sure to tell Phyl your plans.”

Minutes later, he looked down at the address he’d written, and pointed the Jeep in that direction. It was time to do as Phyl had suggested.

He felt somewhat better as the door of the office building swished shut behind him. A team of licensed psychologists, who called themselves Anger Management Consultants, took up the entire second floor of the red brick building. Donovan’s appointment was with Rose Smith, a fifty-something woman with a pleasant face and a winning manner.

He found it easy to tell her about his paternity, the anger that exploded inside him when he learned the truth. He confessed that his anger had gotten to him at other times. One of the issues he had to settle before he and
any
woman could start their lives together.

The therapist talked with him for two hours. Actually, he did most of the talking. During that time, he came to the realization that though his anger had been justified, his reaction to it needed work.

After one session, he also realized that his paternity was a non-issue. Mark had taught him that much. With his dogged devotion and eagerness to learn, the boy reminded Donovan of his own relationship with his dad.

Rose Smith only confirmed what he had figured out on his own.

She gave him a few pointers on ways to work out his anger in more productive ways.

By the time he left her office it was early evening and he was worn out. It had been a grueling thirty-six hours. But he felt better.

He went back to the ranch to find his brother Darin’s truck in the drive. What was he doing here?

When he walked into the kitchen both Douglas and Darin were there with his mom. “What’s going on?”

“Are you all right?” his mom asked.

How could he tell them he felt hollowed out? That his heart was in California with Phyl and Mark? “I’m fine.”

“Are Phyl and Mark okay? Max called and said they were, but that’s all he’d tell us.”

“That’s all I know. They’ll be back when the cartel is rounded up, and she’s out of danger.” He went to his mother, hugged her. “Are you okay? That was quite a scare.”

“It was. If not for Phyl’s quick thinking, he would have killed me. When they left, I was so frightened. I knew Phyl didn’t have what he wanted, and I knew that man would kill both of them when he realized that.”

“She’s safe now,” Donovan said. At least she’d better be.

“You saved her, Donovan,” Douglas said. “If you hadn’t found that flash drive and called Max…”

“Let’s not go there. Why are you guys here?”

“We came to help. Got here in time to move the cattle up to the corral at the barn. We’ll get them to auction tomorrow just as you planned.”

Donovan shook his head. “It could wait.”

“No, it can’t. It’s in all our interests to keep the ranch going.”

“Why don’t you get some sleep?” his mother said. “I know you haven’t slept since you left.”

“I haven’t.” He turned to his brothers. “See you guys in the morning.”

As tired as he was, sleep was hard coming. He couldn’t stop thinking of Phyl and Mark. He knew they were safe, but did they miss him as much as he missed them?

****

The next morning, Dugan joined them and the four brothers took the cattle to auction. It was like old times, before life got so complicated. The trip to auction reminded him of the time Phyl and Mark were here and went with him.

Later, Donovan stuck a sizable check in his pocket. “Thanks for the help, guys,” he said as his brothers went to Darin’s pickup. “You were a big help.”

“No problem.” Douglas grinned. “It does me good to get away from the office and courtroom once in a while.”

Douglas gave Darin a hand signal that said he would be there shortly, and dragged Donovan aside. “I did some research. Your biological father is dead and buried, just like you heard. There were no other children, his parents are dead and he had no siblings. You’re his only living biological heir.”

“What are you getting at?”

“His estate is sizable. His ex-wife filed suit to claim it.” He looked closely at Donovan. “It could be yours if you want to pursue it.”

“I have no interest in the man or his estate. I want nothing to do with it.”

“Are you sure?” Douglas asked. “It would make you a wealthy man. You won’t get another chance.”

“Forget it. I have everything I want. At least I will when Phyl and Mark get back.” His world felt off-kilter without them. And for the first time he realized how his family had felt when he’d run off to San Antonio.

He waved as his brothers headed for Houston. Dugan went back to his office.

Donovan’s steps were hurried, his thoughts whirling as he thought about Phyl. After a stop at the bank, he passed Potter’s Mercantile. The window display caught his eye. He went inside. It didn’t take long to pick out what he wanted. When he left, he smiled grimly. The kid better get back soon or this was wasted money.

When he arrived back at the ranch, he wasn’t sure about anything. He parked the truck and trailer in the drive and went inside, leaving his package by the door. His mother was alone in the kitchen reading a magazine.

“How did it go?”

“We got top dollar. The money is in the bank. Douglas and Darin are headed back to Houston.”

She got up, fixed him a glass of tea. “Sit down, Don. There’s something we need to discuss.”

Her tone of voice stopped him. He came back to the table and sat down heavily. “What is it?”

“Since the day you came home, we haven’t discussed what sent you to San Antonio. I think we should talk about it.”

“There’s nothing to discuss,” he said stiffly. “I know the facts. That’s enough.”

She laid a hand on his. “No. It isn’t. I’m more than sorry you had to learn how I became pregnant with you.”

It was as if she couldn’t say the word rape. But it hung in the air just the same.

“It wasn’t right. It diminished your memories of your father. That’s the sorrow of it. He loved you dearly. His last words were for you.”

When the tractor had turned over into the pond, while TJ held their dad’s head above water, when he knew he was dying, he’d told her to tell the boys that he loved them all. Equally. At the time they didn’t know why their dad had phrased the sentence as he had. Donovan understood now how important it had been for his dad to say the words. “I see that now. I didn’t then.”

“What changed?” she asked, her voice gentle.

“I did. Having Mark here. I don’t know.”

“You’re crazy about the boy, aren’t you?”

“I am. He made me understand so much.”

“Do you love him?”

“I do. For the first time, I see how my dad could love a kid not his own. I have Mark to thank for that.”

“Do you love Phyl?”

How else could he explain this torment he was going through? “I suppose I do.”

“Good. So do I.”

“I wish I knew when they were coming home.”

She patted his hand.

“I need to tell you something, Mom.”

She looked at him, a bit of fear in her eyes.

“When I left and went to San Antonio, I didn’t think I’d ever come back. I didn’t feel worthy to be a Callahan.”

His mom’s green eyes welled with tears.

“Having Mark and Phyl here has taught me so much. I guess I want to thank you for hiring Phyl that day—for letting them stay and making them feel at home.”

Tears spilled over now.

Donovan pulled her to her feet, gave her a hug. “I want you to know that I finally understand.”

“Thank you, Donovan. You’ve made my heart lighter.”

As was his.

He gathered his package, went to the office and got on-line. It didn’t take long to order two punching bags, one for him, a smaller one for Mark.

Doctor Smith, at the Anger Consultant office, had suggested it would help relieve his frustration.

He could use it now.

Chapter Sixteen

Donovan stood in his jeans and boots, his Stetson low on his head, staring at her. Phyl felt the force of those dark blue eyes pulling her closer. Watching. Waiting. She smiled, moved toward him. She couldn’t wait to feel his lips—feel his body next to hers. Her heartbeat accelerated. He was so close. She wanted him. Had never wanted another man as she did this one.

She reached out, wanting those strong arms around her. “I love you,” she whispered.

He didn’t respond. Before she touched him, he turned, gave her one last guarded look, and walked away.

She sat up with a start, wiped tears from her face and staggered to the bathroom. A dream. Nothing but a dream. She’d had it every night since she’d been here.

Was her subconscious telling her Donovan didn’t want her? After their time at the rock formation, even the homestead, she’d thought there was something growing between them. Something special. Maybe she was wrong.

Or maybe the danger she’d put Nellie in had turned him off. Maybe the family had gone ballistic when their mother had almost been killed.

Who could blame them?

Bearing the loss of the man she’d grown to love would be hard enough, but she’d deeply mourn the loss of Nellie, who had become both a friend and surrogate mother.

Mark kept her going. His enthusiasm over Snowman didn’t negate his nightly prayers to “please let them go back home.” Nothing, not even his daily rides on Snowman, could change his yearning for Donovan and the ranch.