The Promise of Forgiveness (22 page)

“What mother would want her daughter to see her in skimpy lingerie?”

“It's who she was, Ruby. Maybe not by her choice in the beginning, but by her choice in the end.”

Ruby stuffed the envelope into her purse. She'd hide the photos in Cora's trunk in the attic.

“Did she ever contact you after she left town?” Had Cora cared even a little about what had happened to Hank and her daughter?

“About three years after she disappeared, Cora got off the bus in town and came into the store.”

Ruby's heart beat faster.

“She was on her way to Amarillo and wanted to know if you were okay. I told her that you'd been adopted.”

“Did she seem sad?” At Big Dan's blank look, Ruby said, “Forget I asked. “What had she been doing all those years?”

“She didn't say.”

“Why was she going to Amarillo?”

He shrugged.

“You didn't ask?”

“She was back on the bus in less than two minutes.”

Disappointment filled Ruby, but the knowledge that at least Cora had returned to check on her daughter and later made an attempt to communicate with her through Glen and Cheryl Baxter redeemed her a tiny bit in Ruby's eyes. “Did you tell Hank that Cora had stopped in town?”

“She asked me not to.”

Cora had been heartless. “Hank's lawyer hired a private investigator to look for her.”

Big Dan's head swung back and forth like a pendulum. “It's too late.”

Ruby hoped not. “Maybe you're wrong.” She weaved between the clothing racks.

“Ruby?”

“What?”

“It's time you faced your fears.”

“I'm not afraid of finding out that Cora's dead.”

“That's not what scares you.”

Curse the midget and his clairvoyance. He knew she was running from herself, just like Cora. “Mind your own business.”

Ruby drove fifteen miles below the speed limit back to the Devil's Wind because her watery eyes washed out the road in front of her.

I
t was no surprise that Mia was exercising the horses when Ruby returned from her visit with Big Dan. The corral had become her daughter's safe place. Hank sat in a lawn chair in the shade, Friend sleeping on the ground at his feet. Ruby stayed in the pickup, watching the pair engage in an animated conversation involving hand gestures and lots of smiling.

She held her breath, anticipating the wallop to her stomach—the sensation she always experienced when she witnessed the closeness between Hank and Mia. But the pain never materialized and her heart melted. Ruby had stopped at the Devil's Wind to find answers for herself—she hadn't expected the desolate, dusty ranch to help her daughter grow stronger.

Because of Hank and the four-legged misfits in the barn, Mia would survive her mother's latest screw-up with Joe. Her relationship with her daughter was an ongoing project and unfortunately they'd taken a step back yesterday, but Ruby no longer feared that Mia would do anything drastic again—like sleep with a boy—if her mother disappointed her.

And they both knew Ruby would mess up again.

Mia tipped her head and laughed, her long blond hair cascading down her back. Her daughter's looks were changing—faster than Ruby would like. It wouldn't be long before she blossomed into a full-grown woman. Mia would need a strong, guiding hand to help her steer clear of the abusers and losers in the world. What would happen when ornery old Hank wasn't there to threaten the bastards with his shotgun?

Joe would have stepped in and looked out for Mia, but you made certain that wouldn't happen
.

Ruby went into the house, set her purse on the bed, then stood behind the screen door and watched Hank teach Mia how to play poker. Mia had a huge heart with lots of love to give, and Ruby was counting on her daughter to save a little of that love and forgiveness for her mother.

When Hank folded, Mia shouted, “I won, Grandpa!” She flung her arms around his neck and hugged him.

Feeling left out, Ruby went into the kitchen. A few minutes later Hank joined her. “You're like an old hound dog,” she said. “You can sniff out a fresh pot of coffee a mile away.”

He hung his hat on the hook by the door, then pulled out a chair at the table. The sound of the ticking wall clock and Hank's slurping broke the silence.

Ruby sat across from him, and they engaged in a squinty-eyed duel over the rims of their mugs. “Might as well speak your piece.”

“I don't mind saying I'm disappointed that you gave up on yourself so easily,” he said.

The old Ruby wanted to shout,
You don't have a right to be disappointed
.
You gave me away
. But she held her tongue until the urge passed. The new Ruby—the woman she needed to become to save her relationship with her daughter and maybe save herself—accepted Hank's admonishment.

“But I still love you,” he said.

Her eyes widened.

“I've always loved you.” He held her gaze. “And you know what?”

Still reeling from his proclamation, she whispered, “What?”

“I know you love me.”

Hold on, now
. Hank was pushing her too fast.

“You want to know how I'm sure about that?”

No
.

“You got off the bus.”

The ache in Ruby's stomach spread through her limbs, and the mug in her hand turned to lead. “I needed to learn my medical history for me and Mia.” But it was more than that. From the moment she'd read the lawyer's letter, Ruby had yearned to connect with Hank, and the need had never wavered even when he'd opened the front door with a shotgun in his hand.

He set his cup aside, then leaned across the table and patted Ruby's cheek with his calloused hand. “Nothing you say or do will keep me from loving you, daughter.”

There was still plenty of hurt and anger inside Ruby, but she recognized that the only way to move forward with Mia was to forgive Hank—fully and unconditionally. She knelt in front of his chair and collapsed against his bony chest.

Cigarette smoke, dust, and old age hugged her, and she held on tight, afraid if she let go, she'd lose him. “I forgive you . . . Dad.” The word
Dad
had burst from her mouth like a boulder breaking through a dam. The anger and hurt rushed from her body, leaving her gutted.

“I'm grateful for your forgiveness, daughter.”

Each wrinkle, brown spot, and scaly freckle reminded her of Hank's frail health. Would they have enough time to make up for the thirty-one years they'd been apart? “Promise me you won't die.”

His eyes twinkled. “I'll hang on until Mia graduates from high school.”

“Until she gets married.” If Ruby had her way, Mia wouldn't walk down the aisle until she turned forty. “What if we never find out what happened to Cora?” Ruby wasn't sure she cared to learn the woman's fate. If her life mirrored her mother's, then maybe it was better if she didn't know how it would all end.

“Never mind Cora,” he said. “What are you going to do about Joe?”

“Nothing.” She'd blown it with him. “Women like me don't get second chances.”

“You're talking like Cora.”

Ruby returned to her chair. “What do you mean?”

“I've had three decades to figure out why she left me.” He swirled the coffee in his mug. “I looked the other way when she slept with Sandoval, because she couldn't help herself. But that didn't keep me from loving her.”

“Then why did she run off?”

“Cora didn't believe she deserved to be happy.” Hank swung his gaze to Ruby. “You're a stronger woman than your mother was. Don't let your insecurities and fears rob you of the happiness you're entitled to.” He took his cup to the sink. “I better go out there before Mia spoils those damned nags rotten.”

Ruby sat alone in the kitchen, thinking back on the years following her parents' deaths. Life had been tough when she'd had to raise Mia alone. She'd shut down inside and focused solely on surviving. She went to the window and watched Mia and Hank in the corral. If there was ever a time in her life to grow a backbone, it was now. She was tired of running. It was time to stand her ground and reach for the happiness that she'd denied herself for so long.

•   •   •

R
uby stood in the hallway outside Mia's bedroom, holding a plate of cold pizza slices. Ever since the satellite Internet service provider had installed a dish on the roof earlier in the day, Mia and Hank had been holed up inside the bedroom. Ruby had gone to the bottom of the stairs twice and called them down for supper, but they'd ignored her.

“Can I come in?” When no one acknowledged her request, Ruby opened the door and poked her head inside the room. Hank sat on the bed beside Mia, holding a brand-new laptop.

“Click on the link,” Mia said.

“What link?” Hank asked.

“That one.” Mia tapped the keyboard. “I added it to your favorites list.”

“I don't want to see pictures of Pinky's band,” Hank said.

“I do.”

“Why does she have pink hair?”

“Because her name's Pinky.”

“Stupid name if you ask me.”

“Check out this photo. I think that's a dance club in Paris. Have you ever been to Paris?”

“No.”

“Would you like to go someday?”

“No. Now get me back to that game I was playing a minute ago.”

Mia sighed dramatically. “Mom won't like it if she finds out you're playing Internet poker.”

“She won't find out unless you tell her.”

“I won't find out what?” Ruby struggled not to laugh at the startled expressions on both their faces.

“Nothing.” Hank closed the laptop.

“I was standing in the hall for five minutes and neither one of you answered me.”

“I've been showing Grandpa all the stuff he can do on his new computer.”

“I brought you supper.” She held out the plate.

Hank took a slice of pizza off the plate as he walked by. “I'll eat in the kitchen.” He closed the door behind him, leaving Ruby alone with her daughter.

“I'm not hungry,” Mia said.

If they didn't talk, the tension between them would grow worse. “I need to apologize.”

Mia groaned and flung herself back on the mattress.

Ruby put the plate on the dresser, then sat in the rocker. She'd rehearsed her speech before coming upstairs—funny how she couldn't remember a word of it now. “I don't know what else to say other than I'm sorry.”

“You hurt Joe.”

“I didn't mean to, but I realized that I have some things to work out.”
With myself
.

Mia rolled her head sideways and stared at Ruby. “You hurt everyone.”

Shame filled her when she thought of all the men who had come and gone from their lives—several of them decent guys who hadn't deserved the way Ruby had treated them.

“I think you did it to hurt me, too. I like Joe and I was hoping you guys would get together.” Mia wiped her eyes, and Ruby died a little with each tear that slid down her daughter's cheek. “I wanted all of us to be a family.”

“I can promise that you, me, and Hank will always be family.”

“What do you mean?”

Now that Ruby had forgiven Hank and let go of the hurt and anger, she intended to take care of him for as long as he stuck around. “We're going to make the Devil's Wind our new home.”
Home
—she'd never thought she'd equate the word with Hank like Mia had, but they were now one and the same in Ruby's heart.

“What about Joe? Is he gonna stay, too?” Mia wanted stability in her life. A man she could look up to as a father. A mother who put her first. Hank was the frosting on the cake—a grandfather who made her feel extra special.

“I don't know what Joe's plans are, but he'll always be welcome here.”

“Make him want to stay, Mom.”

Ruby wished life were that easy
—
that if you just tried a little harder, everything would turn out okay
.
“Honey, I'm sorry I let you down.”
Again
.

“I'm tired.” Mia stuck her iPod buds into her ears.

Ruby left her daughter alone and went downstairs, where she spotted the pruning shears on the table next to the umbrella stand. She took them outside and knelt on the ground in front of the rosebushes, then went to work clipping the dead twigs—each snip representing bits and pieces of her past that she needed to shed in order to bloom again. It was rough acknowledging that she'd made more bad choices than good and had hurt the ones she cared about most. She dropped the dried stems on the ground, where the blowing dust would eventually bury them.

“Don't cut 'em back too much.”

Ruby hadn't heard Hank come outside.

“Cora said red roses reminded her of home.”

“Where was Cora's home?”

“Arkansas.”

“Nevada's a long way from Arkansas. How did she end up that far away?”

Hank sat in the chair. “Her mama died when she was real young.”

“Any siblings?”

“An older brother.”

“What was her last name?”

“Johnson.”

Ruby rose from her knees and sank down on the porch step. “Do you think she made up the name?”

“Cora never lied to me.”

“What about her affair with Sandoval?”

“I never asked Cora if she was sleeping with Roy.”

His answer made Ruby both angry and sad, so she changed the subject. “What was Cora's childhood like?”

“Her daddy gambled.” Hank's fuzzy eyebrows lowered, deepening the wrinkles across his forehead. His mouth pressed into a thin line and his nostrils flared. “The bastard let his friends have turns with Cora to pay off his gambling debts.”

Cora had turned to a life of prostitution because that's all she'd known, thanks to her father. “I'm surprised she wanted anything to do with you after you won the ranch in a poker game.”

“I promised Cora I wouldn't gamble anymore.”

“Did you keep that promise?”

Hank nodded. “Haven't set foot in a casino since I beat Roy at cards.”

And he'd kept his promise to Cora even after she'd left him. “How did she end up in Nevada?”

“Ran away from home at fifteen and met a gal on the streets who'd worked at the Love Ranch Cathouse. She told Cora that they treated the girls well.”

That Cora had survived her teen years was a testament to her strength. “Why was she so special?”

“Because she was kind to a piss-poor cowpuncher with little education.” He rubbed his eyes. “To tell you the truth, I never thought I'd be able to sweet-talk her into coming here.”

“You . . . a sweet-talker?”

He chuckled. “I was better-looking back in the day.”

“Did you ask her to marry you?”