A Cowboy's Honor

“Mommy!” A miniature blond whirlwind appeared on the step.

Mommy? Dallas blinked as his wife grasped one tiny hand and led the child to stand in front of him.

”I want you to meet someone, Misty,” Gracie said. “This is Dallas. He’s your daddy.”

“My daddy?” The tiny girl wearing a mussed blue dress touched his knee, and in doing so, grabbed hold of Dallas’s heart.

His daughter.

She was an immature version of her mom. Feathery, golden curls spilled to her shoulders. Perfect features in a sun-kissed face.

But Misty wasn’t all Gracie. The jut of her chin, the dimple that flickered at the edge of her mouth—he knew those were his gifts to her. He’d studied his own features in the mirror so often, trying to remember who he was.

He was a father.

LOIS RICHER

likes variety. From her time in human resources management to entrepreneurship, life has held plenty of surprises.

“Having given up on fairy tales, I was happily involved in building a restaurant when a handsome prince walked into my life and upset all my career plans with a wedding ring. Motherhood quickly followed. I guess the seeds of my storytelling took root because of two small boys who kept demanding, “Then what, Mom?”

The miracle of God’s love for His children, the blessing of true love, the joy of sharing Him with others—that is a story that can be told a thousand ways and yet still be brand-new. Lois Richer intends to go right on telling it.

A Cowboy’s Honor

Lois Richer

…And we confidently and joyfully look forward to becoming all that He has had in mind for us to be.

—Romans 5:2b

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Questions for Discussion

Chapter One

Hope was a wasted effort, thought Gracie Henderson as she walked through the park at the Dallas Arboretum. There on a hillock she found the spot she remembered dearly, where she’d first met her cowboy. Now, staring at the exact spot where he’d entered her life, she noticed a man hunched down in the grass. Birds gathered around him, swooping down from the sky. They landed on toothpick legs, then moved toward him in tiny stops and starts.

Intrigued, Gracie paused to watch.

The man’s face was turned away from her, but something about the way he sat, something in his frozen stillness would not let her look away.

He pulled off a morsel of whatever was in his hand with exaggerated slowness. Without so much as a muscle twitch he held it out, wordlessly coaxing the birds nearer until they lit upon his hand and pecked the food from his fingers. Entranced children flocked near the bird man, trying to emulate his success with the feathered animals as their bemused families watched.

Gracie blinked, checked her watch. Not a lot of time to spare. Since the wrought-iron bench she sought out was unoccupied, she sat down, but left her lunch bag unopened. In this particular place, in the warm rays of the May sun, her aching soul felt soothing relief.

Gracie had been back in Texas only a week, but that was long enough to dull her memories of the cooler North Dakota spring she’d left behind. It was almost long enough for Dallas’s southern heat to evaporate the chill encasing her heart.

For the next six months they would be safe.

She pressed her back against the warm metal and soaked in the lake view, breathed the heady scents of blooming alyssum and freshly mowed grass, listened to the breeze rustle the lush leaves of a nearby cottonwood. All of it combined sent her thoughts headlong into the past, into emotions she’d struggled to bury.

She’d been so happy that day, so trusting.

Reality splashed down like a cold shower, reminding her that her blissful joy had lasted eight short days. At least she’d learned from that. Now she took precautions, made sure before she leaped.

With effort Gracie pushed away the hurt and opened her lunch bag. From the corner of her eye she noticed the man rise. He ambled across the grass, pausing to sniff at a bed of flowers, then pluck a tumbled leaf from the grass.

Gracie bit into her chicken salad sandwich and closed her eyes, allowing herself a moment to savor her lunch. Simple joys. She’d learned not to take them for granted.

“It’s a beautiful place, isn’t it?”

Gracie blinked, stared at the owner of that butter-smooth voice.

Her heart stopped.

He looked so real standing in front of her, watching her with a quizzical stare. Nothing at all like the man in her dreams. Her cowboy.

“Dallas?” she squeaked. Gracie’s heart beat in a painful rhythm, and she grasped the edge of the bench for support.

“It’s a pretty city, but I didn’t know it would be so hot.” He swiped a hand across his forehead, smiled. A familiar dimple peeked out from the corner of his mouth. “And this is only spring.”

How she’d missed those bittersweet eyes.

“You’ve chosen the prettiest spot. Do you mind if I share it?”

Gracie shook her head. Her limbs trembled with excitement until terror, cold as Arctic ice, grabbed hold, plunging her from delight to dread in two seconds flat. Something was wrong.

She didn’t know what to ask first.

Dallas didn’t try to break the silence between them. In fact, he seemed to relish it. A faint smile curved his lips as a bird flitted closer to beg for food.

It was a mirage, a dream. It had to be. Only Gracie couldn’t wake up.

So many times, through long sleepless nights and terror-filled days, she’d longed to share her burden, to talk to him, to lean against his shoulder and know she wasn’t alone, that she didn’t have to be afraid anymore.

After the first year alone, filled with questions that were never answered, she’d shoved him out of her mind and never permitted herself to imagine him coming back.

Now here he was.

“Where have you been, Dallas?” Rage replaced curiosity. “Did you even consider how worried I was? Surely you could have called, written—something?”

Terror filled his face. He was afraid? Of her?

He jumped up from the grass.

“I didn’t mean to bother you, ma’am. I’m sorry I…”

Brown eyes brimmed with shadows she didn’t understand. But his fear was obvious. A riot of emotions flashed in his eyes, a wariness she’d never expected. As if she were a stranger.

Gracie stood up in turn, touched his arm. “Don’t you think you owe me some kind of explanation, Dallas?”

He fidgeted as if he found her touch painful. Then he grew still and his eyes met hers for the first time.

Empty eyes.

“You…know me?”

She might have missed his question if she hadn’t been standing inches away.

“Of course I know you.” Anger chased frustration. “What are you playing at, Dallas?”

His Adam’s apple bobbed as he struggled to swallow. “So my name is Dallas.”

Gracie pulled back. This was not the man she knew. This was a stranger in his body—a wary stranger who showed no signs of recognizing her. She longed to shake him, to finally pry loose the responses she’d been denied. But his uncertainty, the watchful way he peeked at her, like one of those wary birds he’d been feeding…Gracie gulped down her bitterness, sought nonchalance.

“What’s been going on with you, Dallas?”

“Dallas what?” He stared into space, looking for all the world as if he hadn’t heard the most important question she’d ever asked.

“Pardon?”

“My last name. What is it?”

“Henderson.”

He turned his focus on her then, obviously mulling over something in his mind. After a moment he stepped back.

Gracie waited for an apology, an explanation. Something. But he continued to regard her with that blank stare.

“Who am I?”

His rushed whisper sounded deadly serious. But Gracie couldn’t quite believe it. And until she figured out if he was playing some kind of game, she had to be cautious.

“Let’s sit down on the bench. You can share my lunch. Please?” she added when it looked as if he’d refuse. “Are you hungry?”

“Not really.”

“Well, I am. Maybe you could wait while I eat my lunch.” Gracie drew him toward the bench, motioned for him to sit. She needed to buy some time, figure out what to do next. “I have some juice and some coffee. Which would you like?”

“I love coffee.”

He always had.

She handed it over. Dallas removed the lid, sniffed and closed his eyes as he savored the aroma. The familiar gesture brought tears, but Gracie dashed them away.

She would not weep. Not then. Not now.

Not ever.

“This is good coffee. Thank you, ma’am.”

If he had a hat she knew he would have doffed it. Like a gallant cowboy. Her cowboy. The sting pierced deep and hard, but Gracie was used to pain. She ignored it, focused on getting the answers she craved.

“Can you tell me where you’ve been?” For now she had to push back the raging inner voice and try to figure out her next move.

“California.”

“What did you do there?”

“I worked with animals.”

That made sense to Gracie. It didn’t matter why he’d been there. She knew it would have to do with the almost spiritual rapport Dallas had always shared with animals. But that was the only part of Dallas she recognized.

“Did you come to this city straight from California?”

He nodded, accepted the half sandwich she held out, munched on it before speaking. “Yes. I needed to figure out the dream.”

“You had a dream?”

He looked around. “Maybe more of a memory. Of this park, I think. It was different, but it was the same day as today. May 1.” He glanced around, frowned. “I kept hearing a word. Dallas. So I came to Dallas.” He pulled on his earlobe, fiddled with a shirt button. “I know that sounds weird.”

The significance of the date may have escaped him, but Gracie couldn’t forget.

“My name is Dallas. Dallas Henderson,” he repeated.

She held her breath as she gently probed. “You say you couldn’t remember your name before?”

“It was on the tip of my tongue, but I couldn’t catch it. Do you know how that is?” He held out a bit of crust from his sandwich. The big, generous smile she remembered so well flashed when a bird hopped onto his knee and took the bread.

“Dallas, do you know my name?”

The smile vanished when he turned sideways to study her. “No.”

“My name is Gracie.”

“Hello, Gracie.” He held out a hand, shook hers with solemn formality. “Pleased to meet you. You’re very lovely. Your eyes are the color of bluebells.”

“Thank you.” She detected no sign of recognition on his face. For now she’d have to assume he wasn’t pretending. Her heart jerked.

“Do you know me well?” Dallas played with his pant leg while he waited for her answer.

“I thought I did.”

“Oh.” He lifted his head, searched her face. “How did we know each other?”

“We met in this park.” Gracie wasn’t sure how much to reveal. “Over there. Where you were feeding the birds. On that hillock. I was here on a vacation during college.”

“So I came back to a familiar place.” He nodded, his brown eyes pensive. “The doctors said I might.”

Doctors…So he’d been in hospital?

“Do you remember anything about being here before? About me?”

“Nothing is clear.” His rubbed his temple, his visible agitation warning her to proceed with caution. “If I could only—”

“It doesn’t matter.” Concerned about the white pinch of his lips, she pushed back her own gnawing uncertainties. “We don’t have to talk about it now.”

“You’re the first person I’ve met who knows me. I want to talk, to figure things out,” he said, his voice slightly hoarse. “I just don’t know what to talk about. I—I’m afraid.”

Yes, she’d seen fear crawl into his dark eyes a few moments ago. She just hadn’t recognized it. Dallas had never been afraid. Of anything.

“What is it you’re afraid of?”

“There must be a reason I can’t remember. Maybe I don’t want to. Maybe I committed a crime, ran away from the law or something.” He kept his head bent. “Maybe I was in jail and I don’t want to go back.”

It was so preposterous Gracie almost laughed—until she saw his hand shake as he brushed away some crumbs.

“I knew you very well, Dallas, and I’m fairly certain you were never in jail. You don’t have to worry about that.”

“Then why don’t I remember anything?”

“I’m sure you will. Don’t worry, you’ll think of plenty of things to talk about in a while. Didn’t the doctors say not to try too hard?”

He scanned the park once more before his gaze came to rest on her. “You know, I wasn’t sure why I kept dreaming the word Dallas but it seemed like God was leading me to this city. This is only my second day here but it feels right. Not like California did. I didn’t belong there.”

God led him here? Or had chance?

Gracie preferred to think God hadn’t deliberately done this to her.

Having found a subject, Dallas seemed inclined to talk. “Yesterday I looked at some maps in the library. I saw White Rock Lake and an article about the arboretum. It sounds silly, but they both seemed familiar. So I decided to see for myself. But when I got here, I couldn’t remember anything more. Everything is a big blank.”

“Are you staying nearby?”

“At a small motel not far away. And there’s a diner near it. It’s okay.”

She handed him one of her cookies, mostly to buy time to think.

So Dallas was back—a different Dallas. One who had no knowledge of their past. It was unbelievable, something she’d never anticipated.

“When you knew me…” He spoke haltingly, as if still fearful of the answers his questions might bring. “What did I do? For a job, I mean.”

“You’re an animal behavior specialist,” Gracie told him. That part was easy. “When I knew you, you had almost finished a contract working for a multinational company, traveling a lot to complete a research project. You talked about training horses after that. For police patrols, in New York, maybe? I’m not sure. You spoke of a number of different options, but they always included horses.”

“Hey, maybe I was a cowboy.” He grinned.

You were. My cowboy.

You were supposed to come home.

Dallas crumbled the rest of the cookie, held his outstretched hand on the bench and waited. After a moment another bird approached, and before many minutes had elapsed, it was eating from his hand.

“Do you know where I used to live in the city?”

“Actually, when I knew you, you had a place in Houston when you came back from traveling. I think your company owned it.” Gracie hesitated to tell him more, her fear crowding out the joy she’d begun to allow.

This was not the Dallas she’d known. This man was a stranger. Every sense warned her to be careful about what she told him. Thankfully, she wasn’t the same naive woman she’d once been.

Things had changed.

Don’t forget the past. To relax her guard now could cost her everything.

“Please tell me what you know,” he begged, withdrawing his hand so quickly the bird hopped backward, chattering angrily. “Please.”

When she didn’t speak Dallas bent forward, holding her gaze with his own. “I want to go home,” he begged. “I’ve been away so long. Please tell me where I belong.”

The ache underlying those words was Gracie’s undoing.

“You belong to me,” she whispered. “I’m your wife. We were married in this park six years ago today. May 1.”

For what seemed eternity Dallas said nothing, simply stared at her with an intensity that made her catch her breath. Then he reached up, cupped her chin in his palm as if he couldn’t help himself.

The action was so Dallas, Gracie had to blink back tears.

“I have a wife.” He might have said, I’m not alone, so great was the relief in his voice. “I am a married man.”

Gracie glanced at his left hand. Her stomach clenched. His ring finger was bare, missing the plain gold band she’d slid on it six years ago.

“Do we live nearby, Gracie?”

“No.”

Though she struggled to find a balance between his need to know and her need to feel safe, Gracie couldn’t deny this man was her husband. The green-gold eyes that had once melted with love for her, the hazel irises that deepened to a rich forest shade when he was serious, but lit up like Pharaoh’s gold when he laughed—they were the same.

His hair was longer now, shaggy and unruly, matching his rumpled clothing and generally disheveled state. There were a few silver strands among the dark, just above his ears. He was thinner than he’d been, his jeans loose on the lean body he’d once kept in shape by jogging. Sunken cheeks and haunted eyes told her he’d survived some trauma.

But underneath he was still Dallas, still her husband.

And she knew nothing of how he’d spent the past six years.

“Where do we live?”

She could tell him that. It didn’t matter now.

“We used to live in North Dakota in a little town called Turtleford. I’m a vet. My father had a practice there. I worked with him while you traveled for your business.”

“The house where we lived—was it a big kind of farmhouse with dormers and a high peaked roof?”

She nodded, surprised by the description.

“I dreamed about it,” he said, eyes wide. “And a purple bedroom.”

Gracie smiled and nodded.

“You claimed the bedspread and drapes looked less intense in the store where you bought them.”

I loved them because you gave them to me. I loved you.

Pain sliced through Gracie’s heart.

“I haven’t seen you in six years, Dallas. You left on a business trip out west, to Washington, and I never heard from you again. Do you have any idea why?”

She couldn’t have stopped the question even if she’d wanted to. It had lain unanswered in her mind for too long. Now desperation demanded to know how the man who’d professed to love her more than life could walk away from everything they’d promised each other.

“I’m sorry.” His gaze roved the park, returned to her, dazed and confused. “I don’t know anything except that about three months ago I woke up in a hospital in California. They said I’d been in a coma for almost six years. I had no identification, no money. Ever since then I’ve been trying to figure out who I am.”

Gracie’s heart cracked.

“I felt like there was somebody I belonged to, someone who knew about my past, but I couldn’t figure out whom. I guess I was thinking of you.”

A smile pushed up the corners of his mouth but was quickly replaced by a frown of confusion.

“What?” she asked. A hospital…Was he in pain?

“The police put out news alerts and posters, someone set up a tip line, but no one ever called to ask about me. My dreams were the only thing I had to go on.” He glanced around. “Do I have any family?”

I’m your family, a voice inside her screamed. And then a second terrifying thought took over.

His parents.

Stark, cold dread crawled up Gracie’s spine and seized the cords at the back of her neck. Her throat slammed shut, choking off her air supply. Her fingers squeezed together.

Don’t give in to it. Not yet.

They were his parents. They had a right to know Dallas was alive, even if he couldn’t remember who they were. But that didn’t mean she had to be there.

“When I got here I realized I knew my way around.” He continued speaking as if nothing had changed.

And for him it hadn’t.

“I didn’t get lost, I didn’t get confused. You said we met here.” He studied her intently. “I think I know this city.”

Gracie nodded. “Actually, you grew up in Dallas,” she said. “Your parents live here.”

“Parents?” His forehead wrinkled. “I don’t remember. Any siblings?”

“No.”

“Where do my parents live? Can you take me to see them?”

Gracie controlled her breathing. “I don’t know if your parents live in the same place they did when we were married, Dallas. I just moved back here. We…haven’t kept in touch.”

He studied her quizzically, opened his mouth as if to ask why, then closed it.

Gracie blinked, marveled that the world still looked the same. But nothing would ever be the same, and she had to prepare for that.

“Grace—no, Gracie, isn’t it?”

“Gracie.” She blinked, pulling herself back to reality. “Yes.”

“Gracie. Right.” Dallas inhaled. He wrapped his hands around his knee and squeezed so hard his fingertips turned white. “Would you be able to drive me to my parents’ house? I’d like to see them. Maybe then I could remember.”

It was the last thing Gracie wanted to do. Her very soul rebelled. But she could hardly refuse. He was still her husband, he was alone and he was obviously troubled.

She glanced at her watch, battled to do the right thing.

“I can drop you there,” she agreed finally. “But I won’t be able to stay. I’m supposed to be back at the ranch by four.” Her conscience pricked but she ignored it, began gathering up the remains of their lunch.

“The ranch?”

“The Bar None. It’s a ranch for disabled children. I’m working there for the next six months.” She wasn’t going to tell him more. Not yet.

Not until she had to.

“But you said you had a practice with your father.”

“No, I said I worked with him six years ago. He died.” The punch of loss had weakened after all this time. “I had to sell his practice.”

“Oh.” Dallas waited.

Gracie refused to say more, declined to relive those black days now. Maybe in the future she could drag out all that had passed, but even then she wasn’t sure she could explain without demanding to know why Dallas hadn’t been there to help her survive.

“I’m parked over here.” She pointed, stepped forward, then paused. “Do you have any belongings we need to pick up from your hotel?”

Dallas turned so she could see a small backpack. “Everything I own is in this.”

“Okay, then. Let’s go.” Gracie hurried away from her favorite spot, pausing briefly to toss out the lunch she hadn’t been able to finish. As anniversaries went, this one would at least be memorable.

Once inside the truck Dallas automatically fastened his seat belt. He’d always been careful to do that, said he’d seen too many accidents in his travels.

Was that what had happened to him? An accident?

“You don’t look like a veterinarian.”

“What do vets look like?” she countered.

He’d said nearly the same thing the first time she’d met him in this park during her college spring break. She hadn’t been a vet then, only a trainee, but she’d yearned, dreamed of being more. Eventually, she’d poured out all those hopes and fears to Dallas, as he shared his with her. By Christmas they were secretly engaged.

“I guess I thought a vet would look sort of horsey.” He tilted his head to one side, studied her. “You look more like a kindergarten teacher. Or a mother.”

Gracie clenched the steering wheel, her palms damp.

“What did I say? Something bad? Are you okay?” Dallas examined her too closely.

She could only imagine how hard it must be to tiptoe around, trying not to offend, without really knowing the another person. No wonder he’d been afraid. Dallas had nothing to guide him.