The Promise of Forgiveness (6 page)

Ruby returned to the house, thinking that she'd stopped at the Devil's Wind to learn about Hank and her family tree, but none of that would matter if she couldn't fix things between her and Mia.

Because in the end her daughter was all the family Ruby had left.

T
he shotgun was missing from the umbrella stand.

“Hank?” Ruby called up the stairs to the second floor.

“Out here.”

A decade's worth of dust clogged the screen door, and she could barely make out his silhouette in the chair on the front porch. “You want a cup of coffee?”

“No.”

Sheesh. Ruby was no Miss Manners, but she knew when to use
please
and
thank you
. She went into the kitchen, poured herself a mug of hot brew, then joined Hank. She nodded to the weapon resting across his lap. “The
deputy—not some outlaw biker
—is paying you a visit.”

“Can't be too careful these days.”

She squeezed past him and sat in the other chair. When he reached into his shirt pocket, she said, “You mind not lighting up?”

“It's my damned house”—he dropped his hand to the stock—“ought to be able to smoke if I want to.”

Maybe he needed a reminder. “You invited me here.”

A noise gurgled in his throat, but he left the cigarettes alone.

“I used to smoke,” she said.

“Why'd you stop?”

“Too expensive.” She'd quit cold turkey. And she'd fallen off the wagon only once—the afternoon she'd caught Mia and Kevin naked. Ruby had driven to the liquor store, bought the smokes, then burned through two packs until her lungs had caught fire. Thankfully she'd had no desire to continue smoking after that day. “I still get cravings once in a while.” She stared at the pack of Winstons in his pocket. Unless she wanted her resolve tested, she'd better make her peace with him and head down the road sooner rather than later.

“Don't sit there with your wheels spinning. If you've got something to say, speak up.”

“I irritate the hell out of you, don't I?” The question was intended to coax a chuckle or a smile from him, but he offered neither. She sipped her muddy water, waiting for the first jolt of caffeine to kick in. “I eavesdropped in the barn.”

Hank's attention remained on the dirt road in front of the house. She doubted his cloudy eyes could see more than fifty yards from the front porch. She and Hank were little more than strangers, but she was hard-pressed to remain indifferent toward him. Maybe because they'd both been abandoned by Cora but more likely because every breath Hank took was one breath closer to his last.

“Mia exaggerated.” She twisted her gemstone necklace. “I called you a stupid asshole, not a stupid
old
asshole.”

Mouth twitching, he glanced at her. “What happened between you and Sean?”

Ruby didn't care to discuss her boyfriend troubles with Hank. She never entered into a relationship expecting it to end, but at the first sign of trouble, she dumped her boyfriend rather than wait for the whole affair to unravel.

She changed the subject. “I guess it's pretty obvious that Mia and I have some issues we're dealing with.” Ruby hadn't told any of her friends or coworkers about what her daughter had done, but word had gotten around.

“Most mothers and daughters quarrel,” he said.

This was more than a mother-daughter squabble. “I caught Mia in bed with a boy.”

Hank's head snapped sideways so quickly Ruby marveled that he hadn't fractured a vertebra.

“Don't look at me like that. I don't condone sex at her age.”

“I didn't say you did.”

But the Pineville gossip grapevine had said . . .
That Mia will turn out just like her mother. Going from one man to the next.

Like mother like daughter.

Wouldn't be surprised if Mia got pregnant before she was fifteen.

I bet Ruby will be a grandmother before her thirty-second birthday.

Fearing the town big mouths might be right, Ruby had packed their bags and gotten the hell out of Dodge.

“Is that why you're moving to Kansas?” Hank asked.

“Yes. It would have been tough for Mia to remain in school. I was hoping this move would help us grow closer.” She swirled the coffee in her mug. “So far my plan isn't working.”

“Give it time.”

Interesting counsel from a man who'd turned his back on his own flesh and blood
. “Thank you for being patient with Mia.”

“She doesn't bother me.”

But I do
. “What's with the nursery on the second floor?”

“I told you to stay out of that room.” Evidently he wanted to pretend he hadn't seen her footprints in front of the door. “Don't listen too well, do you?”

“Listening”—especially to her conscience—“has never been one of my strengths. After Cora left, did you remarry and have a baby with a different woman?”

“No.”

Good
. A couple who abandoned their child shouldn't be parents again.

As soon as the thought registered in her mind, Ruby flinched. How was she any different from Hank or Cora? She'd missed all the signs that Mia had been interested in a boy. If she'd been a better parent, her daughter might not have jumped into bed with the first guy who paid attention to her.
Like mother, like daughter
.

Why do you deserve a pass and not Hank
?

Ignoring the voice in her head, she asked, “If you had no other children, why keep the nursery?”

When Hank remained closemouthed, Ruby lost her patience. “You didn't expect me to magically appear on your doorstep and act like we've always been family, did you?” To make clear he knew where she stood on that subject, she added, “Because we're not . . .
family
.”

His gnarled fingers choked the shotgun—maybe his damaged heart had a little feeling left in it, after all. “Cora took off before the doctor released you from the hospital.”

“Took off?”

“She was gone by the time I showed up to bring you both home.”

Ruby couldn't imagine leaving Mia only hours after giving birth to her. “And you had no idea where Cora went?”

“I waited at the hospital all day, expecting her to come back.”

But Cora hadn't. “And the police couldn't find her?”

“She up 'n' vanished into thin air.” It suddenly occurred to Ruby that Joe Dawson had a lot in common with his boss—both had lost a child and their wives had left them. Maybe their wounded spirits had drawn them together.

“Did you bring me home from the hospital?”

Hank's shoulders sank into his chest, as if the memory were too heavy to bear. “No. I left you there.”

“Someone would have been willing to help you with a baby.”

“There weren't many women in the area.”

“What about your parents?” she asked.

“I struck out on my own when I was fifteen.”

Ruby's family tree wasn't looking so hot. “And Cora's parents?”

“She didn't remember her mother, and she hadn't seen her father in years.”

Hank and Cora had experienced rough childhoods, but that wasn't a good enough excuse to abandon their baby.

Before arriving in Unforgiven, Ruby had been determined to hold Hank accountable for turning his back on her. But she struggled to hang on to her resentment after learning that Cora had made a deliberate decision to leave Ruby behind, knowing Hank hadn't been in a position to care for their baby. “So you called Social Services.”

“The lady promised she'd find you a good home.”

It occurred to Ruby that the reason Glen and Cheryl Baxter had moved from Oklahoma to Missouri a year after she was born hadn't been because of a job transfer like they'd told her, but to lessen the chance of Ruby coming into contact with Hank or Cora.

“Did you”—he cleared the phlegm in his throat—“get a good home?”

“I had a decent upbringing.” Glen Baxter might have distanced himself from Ruby after her sophomore year of high school, but he'd never abused her. “My dad was a long-haul trucker and my mother cut hair in the back bedroom of our trailer.”

“Your folks still alive?”

“They died in a car accident shortly after Mia was born.” A truck driver had dozed off at the wheel and crossed the center line. Destiny had played a cruel joke; her father's life had been ended by a fellow trucker. “I was an only child, but I always wished I had siblings.”

Hank scratched the silver stubble on his cheek. “You got any other relatives?”

“An uncle I met once.” Ruby had been ten when her father's brother had passed through town. After the car accident, she'd searched her mother's address book but hadn't found his name or phone number. The only people who'd attended the funeral had been her mother's hair clients and a few of her father's beer-drinking buddies.

“Did you keep track of me?” she asked.

“No, but I insisted the adoption paperwork stated that if Cora wanted to find you, she could.” He jiggled his knee. “Or if you wanted to find one of us . . .”

If Ruby had known she'd been adopted, she most certainly would have tracked down her birth parents, especially after the falling-out with her father. During the six-hour bus ride from Missouri to Oklahoma she'd examined her relationship with Glen Baxter but hadn't come to any conclusion as to why he'd turned his back on her practically overnight. Things between them had begun to get better before Mia was born, but the accident had robbed them of a reconciliation.

“Cora would have come back if she'd been able to.”

Oh
.
My
.
God
. How long had Hank held out hope that Cora would return to him?

“No regrets giving me up?” As soon as the question slipped from her mouth, Ruby silently cursed. It wasn't Hank's fault that her adoptive father had ignored her. And Cora wasn't without blame. She could have taken Ruby with her when she'd fled the hospital.

Hank swept his arm through the air. “This is a lonely place for a girl to grow up without a mother.”

“You might have gotten married again.”

His leg jiggled faster.

“How come you never tried to contact me before now?”

“Didn't see any point.”

“You weren't curious about me?”

Silence
.

Hank refused to give Ruby the affirmation she wanted . . .
needed
to hear in order to forgive him—not that
he
cared about forgiveness. But Ruby cared. A little regret on his part would be nice.

He might not be ready to open up to her, but Hank's crotchety personality and the crow baits in the corral had influenced Mia in a way Ruby hadn't or couldn't. It had been weeks since she'd seen her daughter excited about anything. When Mia was with the horses, her eyes sparkled, and for that reason alone, Ruby would cut Hank some slack.

“I'll help you turn the upstairs nursery into a proper guest bedroom.” She hated that she felt like she had to do something nice for him before she and Mia left. She had no reason to feel guilty about leaving him so soon after they met.

He leaned forward in the chair. “We got company.”

A dust cloud moved in their direction. “You're not going to shoot out the deputy's tires, are you?”

“Not unless he gives me a reason to.”

The lawman parked, then stepped from his vehicle. “'Morning, Hank.” He removed his mirrored sunglasses and dropped them into his shirt pocket. “Hello, Ruby.”

“Paul.”

“Didn't know you had a daughter, Hank.” The deputy approached the porch.

“We're catching up after a separation,” Ruby said. “Have you figured out who stole the Devil's Wind cattle?”

If the deputy was surprised she knew about the missing livestock, he didn't let it show. “'Fraid not. No witnesses have come forward.” He propped a boot on the bottom step, then rested his forearms on his bent thigh. “Any chance Dawson is rustling your cows?”

“Joe didn't steal my cattle.”

“You made up your mind yet about selling?” Randall picked at a piece of lint on his pant leg. “The buyer I mentioned is still interested in the property.”

“You're selling the Devil's Wind?” Ruby asked Hank.

“Was thinking about it, if you didn't show up.”

“What does Ruby have to do with deciding whether or not to put your ranch on the market?”

“She's my next of kin. When I kick the bucket, this place'll be hers.”

“What's your daughter going to do with these badlands?”

“What do I care? I'll be dead.”

Ruby grappled with the knowledge that her inheritance was the Devil's Wind and not a trinket Cora had left behind for her. Never in a million years would she have believed she'd own a ranch.

Randall tapped his finger against the brim of his hat. “Nice to see you again, Ruby.”

“Wait.” She set her mug on the porch floor and stood. “How do you plan to catch the thieves who took Hank's cows? Have you contacted the authorities in other counties to see if they—”