A Cowboy's Honor

“I’m fine.” She faked a smile. “Just the traffic. It’s, ah…been a while since I’ve driven this way.”

It’s been six years since I drove to your parents’ home, but I remember every corner, every signpost. Her head hammered in time to the engine’s sputter.

“It’s pretty weird—I can’t even remember my own wedding. I can see you as a bride, though. All in white, wearing one of those fluffy bridal dresses, like a ballerina.” He met her glance and a hot wire of emotion singed Gracie’s heart. She focused on the street ahead.

They were getting close. Too close.

“Is that what you wore, Gracie?” Dallas prodded.

“What? A ballerina dress?” She shook her head. “White cotton sundress and sandals. Nothing fancy. Couldn’t afford it. You and I eloped, got married by the J.P., then came to the park.” Where they’d held their own private ceremony, promising never to stop loving each other.

Had Dallas honored that promise?

“What did I wear at our wedding?” he asked several moments later.

“What you always wear—wore. Cowboy boots, black pants, white shirt and a Stetson.”

Dallas stared at his sneakered feet in disbelief. “I used to wear cowboy boots?”

Though her arms ached from gripping the wheel so hard, Gracie couldn’t help her smile. “I don’t think I ever saw you in anything else.”

“It seems like you’re talking about someone I don’t know. A person I’ve never met.”

She didn’t respond, was too busy quashing the fear spreading like a virus through her.

“This is it.”

Gracie drew up to the curb, shoved the gearshift home and flicked off the engine. She forced air into her lungs, the metal taste of fear coating her tongue.

“This is what?”

“This was your parents’ house six years ago.”

“I lived here?” Dallas surveyed the big colonial with its massive lawns.

Gracie gulped, nodded. The place had changed. The abundance of flowers was gone, but perhaps his parents had grown weary of their gardening hobby. The shutters and trim had been painted recently, and were now a vivid green instead of the stark glossy black she’d remembered.

Dallas pushed his door open. He glanced over one shoulder expectantly. Only his quick breath gave away his jitters.

“Aren’t you coming?”

Gracie shook her head. “I’ll wait here till they let you in. Just to be sure everything’s okay. Then I’ve got to get back to the ranch. The Bar None. You can call me there whenever you want.”

They’d rejected her once. They wouldn’t get a second chance.

“Go ahead, Dallas. I promise I’ll wait till you’re inside.”

His frown testified that he wasn’t pleased, but he didn’t argue. He nodded once, vaulted from the truck and strode across the lawn.

Gracie swallowed a jagged little pill of fear as the familiar stride carried him so easily to the house where her dreams had crashed and burned.

Why, God? Why now, when I’ve just begun to put the pieces back together? Why not five years ago, when I needed him so badly?

The question died unanswered as Dallas rang the doorbell. Gracie held her breath when the big front door opened. But instead of embracing him and pulling him inside, the woman behind the screen shook her head and kept talking. Eventually she closed the door.

Dallas ambled slowly back toward the truck, his expression perplexed.

Fear’s stranglehold relaxed.

Safe. Could it be that simple?

“What’s wrong?” Gracie pressed back against her seat, preparing herself.

“The Hendersons, my parents, moved about four years ago. She didn’t know where they moved to, only that they sold the house and talked of leaving the country.” He climbed into the cab of the truck, his eyes tormented. “She thought they mentioned India.”

So they were out of her life. But if Gracie found a way to contact them, to tell them Dallas was back, they’d return and nothing would be safe.

And if she didn’t…Dallas stared down at his fingers, his posture showing defeat. That’s when compassion pushed aside fear.

She was his wife. She had to do something.

It was risky. With no memory and no viable means of support, Dallas wasn’t a threat.

Not yet.

But later on…

“We’ll figure something out,” she promised. “But right now you’d better come with me to the ranch.” She started the engine. An emotion, quickly hidden, flickered over his face. “What’s wrong?”

“You don’t really want me to go with you. Why is that?” Dallas’s intuition was as bang on as it always had been. His skin paled. “Did I do something wrong when we were married? Hurt you somehow?”

“Don’t be silly. Of course not!”

“The way you looked at me a moment ago…I must have done something to warrant that.” Dallas quietly gathered up his backpack and reached for the door handle. “Thank you for the ride, but I don’t want to disrupt your life, Gracie. I’ll go back to the motel for tonight. It’s the New Sunrise. You can reach me there, or stop by the park. If I need you, I’ll call the Bar None.”

She visualized him wandering lost and alone, aimlessly feeding the birds while he waited for someone to acknowledge him, to tell him who he was, where he belonged.

“Get in and close the door, Dallas. We can sort through everything at the ranch.” Her cheeks scorched with shame. “You feel lost, but remember, this is quite a shock for me. I’m struggling to absorb it all, too. But I really don’t want you to go back to that motel. Not yet.”

“You’re sure?”

She should be ecstatic. Her husband, the man she’d loved so desperately, was home. Even better, his parents were nowhere in sight. She was safe. But none of it felt real.

“I’m sure, Dallas.” She wasn’t sure at all. But Gracie had no choice. “Given your way with animals, you’ll fit right in. You might even hire on. They’re shorthanded at the moment, and the summer kids will be arriving soon.”

“You don’t owe me anything, Gracie. You’ve gone on with your life. That’s good.” He patted her hand. “I don’t want to impose on anyone. I only want to figure out who I am. It’s really okay. I’ll be fine.”

Gracie reared back at his touch. Emotion could not rule her life a second time. But her skin wouldn’t forget him.

“I know I haven’t been very welcoming. It’s just…the surprise.” How lame. “I’ll help you, I promise, Dallas.”

They’d both promised so many things.

To love.

To honor.

In sickness and in health.

How could she have known when she made those promises that they would cost her everything?

Chapter Two

Dallas didn’t like it, but his wife was his only key to figuring out his past.

He hesitated, but finally nodded. “All right, Gracie. I’ll go with you, for now. Maybe there’s something I can do to earn my keep.” An idea formed. “If you had some photos or something that I could look at, it might help trigger my memory.”

It was doubtful anything would, not after so many blank months. But he wouldn’t stop hoping. Or trusting God to get him through this, however long it took.

“Sure. No problem.” Gracie waited for him to buckle up.

“I’ll try not to cause problems for you.” As if he wasn’t already. He winced. “I don’t suppose it will be easy to explain my sudden appearance to anyone.”

“Elizabeth won’t mind.”

“Elizabeth?”

“Elizabeth Wisdom. She owns the Bar None. At least her foundation does. Along with a whole lot of other places around the world.”

“You work for this foundation?”

“Yes.” Gracie’s fingertips squeezed the steering wheel and she heaved a sigh of relief, as if she was glad of the change in subject. She had beautiful hands. They matched the rest of her. Any man would be proud to call her his wife. Which made Dallas wonder why he’d left, and where he would stay once they arrived at the ranch.

“Tell me how you came to be there.”

“It was rough after my dad died,” Gracie began quietly. “I hadn’t finished vet school, so I wasn’t qualified to take over from him. The house went with the practice. Once they were sold I didn’t have anyplace to go.”

His fault. Why hadn’t he provided a home for his wife?

“Things got pretty bad,” she summarized, casting him a sideways glance. “Elizabeth offered me a scholarship to finish my degree, with the condition that I work for the foundation for six months when I graduated.”

“So you’ll only be at the ranch for six months? Then where will you go?”

“I haven’t figured that out yet.”

Gracie flicked on the radio, leaned back and hummed along to the country-and-western song filling the cab. Whatever other questions he had would have to wait.

Such as how he came to be married to a woman who was lovelier than Hollywood’s hottest celebrity, yet couldn’t recall one single thing about it.

When big wrought-iron gates and a sign announcing the Bar None appeared, Dallas reached out and turned off the radio. Gracie shot him a quick glance.

“We’re almost there, aren’t we?”

“Yes.”

“Before we arrive, will you tell me one more thing, Gracie?”

“If I can.” Her face tightened, as if she was bracing for bad news.

“Are we still married?”

“Yes.”

“You don’t wear a ring.” He glanced at his own hand, saw no band on his own ring finger. “Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why are we still married?” Dallas slouched against his seat, hating that he had to ask, but needing the information to build another piece of the puzzle. “You could have divorced me. They told me I was in the coma for over five years. That’s a long time for someone to be gone.”

Especially a husband.

“Believe me, I know exactly how long it’s been.” Bitterness tinged Gracie’s voice in spite of her best efforts to pretend nonchalance.

“So why didn’t you get a divorce?”

“Stop pushing me!” she snapped, then immediately shook her head. “I’m sorry, Dallas.”

“It’s okay.” But it wasn’t. He wanted to figure out why she hadn’t let him go and found someone new.

“I don’t have an answer for you. For a while I thought you’d come back, show up on the doorstep with some long-winded explanation about where you’d been, why you hadn’t called.”

“And when I didn’t?”

“I didn’t have the money to find out about how to get a divorce. I didn’t have the money for anything.” The dam holding back her anger broke. “I wasn’t just sitting in a chair waiting for you to show up, you know. I had to get on with my life. You were gone, my dad was gone. I had to find a way to survive.”

“I’m sorry.” It didn’t help, but at least now he knew. “You wanted to, though, didn’t you?’

He needed her to answer that.

“At one point, early on, I considered divorce.” Gracie steered toward a white house tucked under a weeping willow. “It doesn’t matter now, does it?”

“I don’t know.” Dallas pressed his hands flat against his knees.

“This is my place.” Gracie pulled up to the house, taking great pains to align her vehicle perfectly with the post in front before she shut off the motor. She climbed out of the truck quickly, opened the rear door and lifted out her parcels. She was halfway up the path, her sandals rustling the pea gravel, before she noticed he hadn’t followed.

“Come on, Dallas. Let’s go inside.” Gracie waited until he’d joined her. “This is what I call home now. Elizabeth gave—”

The front door flew open. A miniature blond whirlwind appeared on the step, hopping up and down on one foot. “Did you get it? Did you get it?”

Dallas glanced at Gracie. Love washed over her face.

“Yes, I got it. And I want you to meet someone. But let’s go inside first.” She smiled at the little girl before motioning for him to follow her. “I’ll introduce you to Elizabeth Wisdom.”

“Hi, Gracie. We had a lovely afternoon together.” A tall, gray-haired woman stood by the kitchen counter. She nodded at him. “I see you brought some company along. Welcome to the Bar None.”

“Thanks.” This was the benefactor? To Dallas she looked more like a grandmother.

“Shall I leave you now, Gracie? Or do you need me a bit longer?”

“If it wouldn’t be too much more of an imposition, I’d like you to stay, Elizabeth. This concerns you, indirectly.” Gracie grabbed Dallas’s arm and drew him into the living room.

He glanced around. There was not an item out of place. That deliberate neatness struck him as odd, especially with a child present. But then maybe the little girl didn’t live here.

Elizabeth arched one brow before nodding. She studied Dallas as she took a seat on the white love seat. Foreboding rushed over him, but he pushed it away. The doctor had told him to be prepared for surprises. All he could do was silently pray for courage as he waited for Gracie to make the next move.

“Have a seat,” his wife told him.

Dallas chose the big armchair. Perched on the edge, he felt as if his life teetered on the edge of a precipice.

“Who else is here, Mommy?”

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

“Honey, I want you to meet Dallas.” Gracie’s pretty face went white. The next words threatened to choke her, but she forced them out anyway. “Dallas, this is Misty. My daughter.”

“Dallas?” Misty’s halting voice held uncertainty. Her fingers curled into Gracie’s, seeking reassurance.

“Yes, sweetheart.” Gracie’s tear-filled blue eyes begged him to understand.

“Oh. Dallas was my daddy’s name. Are you 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. Misty.

Her voice was an immature imitation of her mom’s. Feathery golden curls spilled to her shoulders. Also like her mother’s. Perfect features in a sun-kissed face. Pink bow lips that didn’t smile or frown.

But Misty was not all Gracie. The jut of her chin, the dimple that flickered to life 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 figure out who he was.

He was a father.

Dallas’s insides melted in wonder and intense love as he gazed into eyes that perfectly blended Misty’s parental heritage, not quite green, not quite blue.

“Mommy?” Misty murmured, her voice uncertain, hesitant.

“Yes, honey. Dallas is your daddy.” Gracie’s voice seemed to come from far away.

Dallas studied his daughter, wondered how Misty could know his name.

“I talked about you,” Gracie murmured.

“My mommy told me a lot about you. Only she thought you were in Heaven.” Misty stared past him, unblinking. “But you’re not in Heaven. You’re right here.”

“Yes, I am.” In that second Dallas understood what Gracie hadn’t been able to say.

Misty was blind.

His heart cracked, but he refused to allow pain to edge its way into his voice. Not now. Not while she waited for his reaction.

“It’s very nice to meet you, Misty.” Dallas touched her hand, allowed her delicate fingers to wrap around his own. “You’re a very pretty girl. You look like your mommy.”

“My mommy’s beautiful.” Misty’s smile reappeared. “I want to be just like her.”

“I’m sure you do.” Uncertain if she’d accept a hug, Dallas kept his arms by his sides, leaving the decision to Misty. She stepped back, reaching toward her mother.

Gracie grasped her hand but did not try to draw Misty away from him. Dallas was grateful for that. He wanted to know more about his daughter, he just wasn’t sure where to start.

“Are you sure you’re my daddy?”

He nodded, realized Misty wouldn’t see that. It would take time to get used to the situation, but even though he’d only met her, he knew he’d go to any lengths to protect this beautiful child.

My daughter.

“Yes, Misty. I really am your father. I’m Dallas Henderson.” He glanced at Gracie, trying to silently communicate his appreciation for the way she was allowing them to find their own way.

“Oh.” Misty frowned, bow lips pursed in a peevish frown. “Didn’t you want to have a girl like me? Is that why you didn’t come visit us sooner?”

Like me. The cautious question sent a message. Misty was afraid he wouldn’t love her. Because she was blind.

The knowledge hit low and deep. Dallas steeled himself, turned his pain into a prayer, as he had ever since he’d woken from his coma.

Oh, Lord, if only I’d been here for her, been able to reassure her that I’ll love her no matter what. Help me now.

“No, Misty. That’s not why I didn’t come.” He knelt in front of her, pushed a golden strand off her face. “I couldn’t come because I didn’t remember anything about your mommy and I didn’t know how to find her. That’s why I never met you until now. I’m sorry.”

Five years of his daughter’s life had passed without him, and there was nothing Dallas could do about that. He had to focus on now, on what they could have—if he handled this right.

“Are you all better now?” She bumped against his arm like an awkward colt.

“Mostly all better. I would have come sooner if I could have, Misty. Don’t ever think I wasn’t with you because I didn’t want to be.”

“Okay.” She stood silent for several moments. Waiting.

Though Dallas searched her face, he could not discern her reaction to his words. She hid her emotions well, just like her mother.

We need time together, Lord.

A whisper-soft sound from the love seat drew Misty’s attention. Dallas realized suddenly that though she couldn’t see, his daughter’s heightened senses made her aware of everything in the room. Misty would miss very little.

“I have trouble with my memory,” he explained. “It’s kind of…broken.”

“Like my dollhouse,” she said knowingly. “Your voice is sad. You’re not smiling.”

“In my heart I’m wearing a very big smile,” he told her softly. “A little while ago I didn’t know I had a daughter. Now I can hardly believe I didn’t know it a long time ago.” Dallas glanced at Gracie, saw the tears in her eyes and knew she had thought about this moment many times.

Probably feared it, too.

Which would explain her reluctance to bring him here without preparing her daughter ahead of time. For it was very clear to him that Gracie loved this child more than anything.

“Can I see you?” Misty asked quietly.

Gracie opened her mouth to explain, but Dallas shook his head at her. He knew exactly what Misty meant.

“Of course you can.” When she held out her tiny hand, he took it and guided it to his face. “Go ahead, Misty.”

The moment her baby-soft skin touched his cheek, Dallas closed his eyes and soaked in the sensations. Like stick men, her fingers walked over his forehead, slid around to “see” the shape of his face, the length of his nose, his cheekbones and his mouth. He smiled when she brushed his ear, and her fingers quickly slid back across his lips, found the dimple that matched her own.

“Mommy doesn’t have these,” she said.

Dallas blinked, studied his wife.

True, but Gracie had everything else a woman could ask for. A perfect figure, sun-streaked golden-brown hair that tipped up at her chin in a perky style. A model’s oval face boasting a natural, barely tanned glow.

“You got hurt.”

Misty’s careful probing gentled on his scalp. She’d missed nothing.

“I hurt my head a while ago.”

“Is it sore?” she asked, gently touching the rumpled edges of healed tissue buried just beneath his hairline.

“No, not anymore.”

“How did you get it?”

“I don’t know,” he told her simply. “I can’t remember.”

Dallas glanced up at a wall of photographs. A picture of Gracie holding her brand-new baby forced home exactly what he’d forgotten. Until now he’d known he was missing details, but faced with the visual progression of his daughter’s life, he suddenly realized the totality of what he’d lost and could never recapture.

Why, God?

“You’re looking at my wall, aren’t you?” Misty’s chest puffed out.

“Your wall?” Stupid question. Dallas could clearly see that the pictures all centered on Misty. “Yes, I am. I never knew anybody who had a whole wall of their own. It’s very interesting.”

“Interesting is a word adults use when they can’t think of anything else to say.” Her fingertips brushed his cheek again before she dropped her arm to her side. “Mommy, did you get the part for my dollhouse?”

“Yes, I did. I put it on the counter by the cookie jar. Perhaps Elizabeth will help you. I want to talk to Dallas for a few minutes.”

“Okay.” Misty walked purposefully toward the kitchen, felt unerringly for the bag next to a brown ceramic bear, then shifted toward the love seat. “Elizabeth, will you please help me?”

So easily she dismissed him. Dallas wanted to weep.

“I’d love to help, dear. Though you’ll have to show me what to do. I’ve never fixed a dollhouse before.”

“Don’t worry, I have. I know exactly how to do it.” Misty paused in the doorway. “Will I see you later, Dallas? Is he staying for dinner, Mommy?”

“I’m not sure yet. We’ll have to see. Be careful of the sharp places, honey.”

“I’m always careful. You don’t have to tell me so much,” Misty grumbled before waggling a hand in his direction. “Bye, Dallas.” She walked out of the room and down the hall.

Dallas. Not Daddy.

But then, he hadn’t been her father. He was just a strange man who’d suddenly appeared in her life. Dallas didn’t know who he had been, but in that moment he prayed he could be a good father to this special child.

“It’s a bit late, but I’d like you to meet Elizabeth Wisdom, Dallas. She’s been a wonderful friend to Misty and me.”

“A pleasure to meet you.” He shook her hand, patiently bearing her intense scrutiny.

“I’m glad Gracie found you.” Elizabeth opened her mouth to continue, but Misty called to her. “I’m sure we’ll talk later,” the woman added.

Dallas wasn’t sure if that was a promise or a threat, but he found an odd comfort in knowing that she cared enough for his family to check him out.

“I look forward to it.” He watched her walk away, then turned toward Gracie. His wife.

How odd that sounded.

And how wonderful.

“Do you mind if we sit outside?” Gracie walked toward the kitchen. “I have some iced tea.”

“Sure.” Dallas followed, accepted a glass from her and trailed behind through a set of French doors to a deck that overlooked a small green yard. To the left lay an oval pool. He whistled under his breath. “Nice.”

“Yes, it is. Elizabeth has been very generous.” Gracie pointed to a lawn chair. “Have a seat. I thought we could talk more freely out here.”

“More freely?” he repeated.

“Misty’s hearing is very acute. She’s also very curious. I’d prefer we speak without her listening. For now.”

Misty was a gorgeous child, bright, inquisitive. He wanted the chance to be more than a visiting stranger.

“Did your father know Misty?” he asked.

Gracie’s fingers clenched around the arms of her chair. She licked her lips, but it took another moment before she finally spoke. “She was born two weeks after he died.”

So she’d had a newborn to care for all by herself.

“I wish I’d been there, Gracie. I wish I could have helped you.”

After a moment her color returned. She sipped her tea. “It wasn’t your fault.”

“Maybe not. But still.” Dallas wasn’t sure how much to ask, but curiosity forced the question from him. “Was Misty blind from birth?”

Gracie nodded. “Nobody knows why. The pregnancy was normal. There were no indications, no reason for it.”

But she’d had a hard time. He could see it written all over her face.

“When did you find out?”

“The day after she was born. I had a Caesarian. I don’t remember much about the first night. The next morning they did a battery of tests. I hoped and prayed someone had made a mistake, that they’d find a cure, that there was an operation that could change it.” A wry smile twisted her lovely lips. “There wasn’t. Misty is blind and nothing can change that. Or the fact that I love her.”