Peg hadn’t been the only person to crave that man’s approval and attention. While in a different form, Grady understood that frustrating longing. Suddenly, he hated himself a little less for always being so weak when it came to Walt Friar. It was obvious there was something about the man that drew you in.
“I was three babies deep by the time I realized Walt was a man who couldn’t grow roots.” Peg squeezed Josie and Carly’s hands on either side and her daughters smiled in unison. “Every little girl has the right to think their daddy is the best man in the whole wide world. And don’t get me wrong, Walt was an incredible father. I always believed he’d give his very life for any one of his girls.” Her words lingered as she inhaled a breath that pushed her shoulders to her ears. “But knowing that he knew about Kiley and never had the decency or integrity to reach out to her—well, that certainly makes me question my choice in staying. Of course, it does. But I can’t go back and change things.”
Maren’s hand found Grady’s knee under the table and rested there, a comfort and connection Grady hadn’t realized he’d needed at that very moment. He laced his fingers into hers.
“You’ve been trying to right Walt’s wrongs and Grady, that’s just not a burden you need to shoulder anymore. We all agree. That’s why we’ve decided we’re going to step up and step in to help Kiley. She belongs to us and we’re going to make sure there’s not a day that goes by from here on out that she doesn’t feel that.”
Grady could barely swallow around the knot that had tied his throat right up. After the conversation he’d had with Kiley that morning, he couldn’t help but feel a deep sense of relief, as well as an overpowering gratitude, at Peg’s candid words.
“There’s an empty two-bedroom apartment next to the one I’ll be renting in town and I’ve already signed the papers for it. Carly and I will get it all set up so Kiley and Colton can move in and have a real home of their own. Equipped with a built in auntie and grandma right next door, should they need our help.”
“And I’ve already pulled down our baby stuff from the attic,” Josie noted. “We’ve got an old oak dresser and crib, along with the bassinet Mama used with each of us girls. Whatever we don’t have, I can easily get my hands on by putting the word out on social media.”
The full weight of their offer pressed into Grady like a sack of potatoes heaved into his lap. He felt like the wind had knocked right out of him. For the first time in months, the blur of tears that crowded his vision wasn’t from sorrow, but from unexpected hope.
“I have something, too.” Maren gripped tighter onto Grady’s hand. “After breakfast, can I ride with you back to your place so I can give it to her?”
27
Maren
Maren’s knuckle nudged against the guest bedroom door. “Knock, knock?”
“It’s open.”
Already cracked a few inches, Maren pressed the door open all the way. The room had a honey-tinted glow and a wash of morning sun from the undressed window swathed Kiley and Colton in a golden spotlight. Despite her hair being a mess of knots and her face free of the usual makeup that painted it, she looked fresh. Well-rested, almost.
“Did I wake you?”
Kiley smiled. “No, I just woke up from a nap a few minutes ago. I’m trying to take the whole sleep when the baby sleeps thing to heart.”
“Good advice, I’ve heard.” Coming to the corner of the bed, Maren hiked one leg up onto the mattress to half sit. Her eyes roamed the tiny room and when they circled back around and snagged on Kiley’s, she nearly flinched. The chestnut brown tone of her eyes matched those she’d looked up at all her life and she absorbed that shock as she pulled a breath deep into her lungs. The resemblance had always been there, she supposed, but only visible now that the shrouding layer of secrecy had been peeled back.
“I have something for you.” Maren fiddled with the ribbon on the gift in her hands. “Well, something for you and Colton.”
“That’s very sweet of you, Maren, but you didn’t have to—”
“It was my dad’s.” She knew she should’ve said our dad’s, but that truth hadn’t made its way into her vocabulary yet. “He had one made for each of us girls when we were born. Mama said he brought them to wrap us in at the hospital instead of those receiving blankets they give you.” Scolding the irrepressible tremble of her hand, Maren leaned to pass the neatly folded fabric to Kiley. “His mama, Grandma Millie, made them. She was an expert quilter, I’m told.”
With the newborn tucked to her chest, Kiley bent closer to gather the blanket into her hands, her Walt Friar-hued eyes unblinking.
“It’s smaller than it was originally intended to be, and probably not cut straight, either. I didn’t have any white thread to match the original hem and I’m useless with a sewing machine, but I figured it would still be big enough to wrap Colton in.”
“This is half of your baby blanket?” She didn’t even look at the quilt in her lap, her wide, unbelieving gaze fastened on Maren like a magnet. “You’re giving me half of the quilt your dad had made for you?”
“It’s as much yours as it is mine.” She couldn’t undo her father’s choices, but she could certainly make new ones. Ones that created something beautiful out of the complicated, tangled legacy he’d left behind. “Just like he should’ve been as much yours as he was mine.”
“Once again, I’m blown away by you, Mare.”
Pulling hard on the latigo, Maren cinched the strap tight so the saddle wouldn’t budge. Remy’s flank quivered at the pull, his head tossing ruthlessly up and down, but then he sputtered a massive exhale and showed there was even more slack left in the leather strap to pull taut.
“You’re blown away?”
With a boot fit into his stirrup, Grady hiked himself up and over onto Dusty’s back. The horse repositioned his stance beneath him, hooves stamping the baked earth. “I don’t think you have any clue what you did for Kiley today by giving her that quilt. Your instant acceptance of all of this—”
“It’s not instant, by any means.” In a similar move, Maren mounted her dad’s old horse in a swoop and gathered the reins into her grip. “I’m operating in shock over here.”
“Well, you wouldn’t know it.”
“That’s good, I guess.” With a tap of her heels, she urged the horse into a steady walk, following Dusty’s swishing tail as they escaped the shade of the barn awning and set out on the trail toward the foothills on Grady’s ranch. “I just feel like it’s time for a new beginning. My dad dying—that was such an ending, Grady. But it doesn’t have to be. It’s going to take time, but I want to do the right thing. Kiley and Colton are innocent in this.”
Grady turned in his saddle, angling a look over his shoulder. “In fairness, you all are.”
“You are, too, Grady.”
An appreciative smile broke onto his lips, and he surprised her when he flashed a larger, more challenging grin before pressing his spurs into Dusty’s sides to shoot across the arid ground in an all out gallop. Like a game of childhood tag, Maren kicked Remy into high gear. Hooves pounded in a steady beat like a high school drum line. Hair whipping all around, Maren shook her face free of the errant strands and sat up in her saddle as a jockey would to stretch for the finish line. She couldn’t help but let out a loud whoop! of pure delight. Adrenaline pumped fast and thick through her veins while she chased Grady and his horse up the peaks and knolls toward the majestic tabletop plateau of the Cutter Ranch.