“I loved your mother so much, and she took care of most of what needed to be done around here. When she died, I realized I was a washed-up rodeo cowboy with little more brains than God gave a horsefly, who had you and a brand spanking new baby to care for. And Carly, I hurt so bad from losing your mom, I wanted to say to hell with the world. I still do more days than not.
“I couldn’t take the hurt, and I was so afraid of screwing up or getting hurt worse, I closed off my heart. I didn’t realize it, but I shut out you and Ryder.”
She bit her lip to keep from crying. “Thank you for telling me that.”
“You always were an old soul, and responsible beyond your years. You took over with the house and your brother, and Lord forgive me, I let you because it was easier. I could go to the barn with my horses, and pretend life was fine. I could believe your mother was still in the house or her office. Doing that helped me, but it made you grow up too soon, and I missed what was really important in life with you and your brother.”
Carly linked her hand with her dad’s and squeezed. “I think it was Maya Angelou who said, ‘Now that I know better, I do better.’ That’s all any of us can do.”
He nodded. “What I’ve taken the long way to say is, I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you and Ryder. That, and I’m worried about you, because I see you making my same mistakes. You cut yourself off from everyone because you can’t stand the hurt.”
Her mind rebelled against his comment. “That’s not what I’m doing. I’m trying to figure out what I want from life.”
“If you say so.” Her father leaned forward. “I’ll tell you a story my father told me when I thought life was greener somewhere else. He said a dog with a bone was crossing a bridge. He saw his reflection in the creek below and thought the other dog’s bone looked better than his. He opened his mouth to bark at the dog to scare him into giving up his bone and lost the one he had. Just make sure you’re not losing what you’ve got for something that might not exist.”
*
Without Owen andHolly to talk to and lighten the office mood, Carly’s days returned to endless drudgery. Christina, the middle-aged Asian woman the temp agency sent to assist, proved efficient and hard-working but quiet. Apparently, the woman subscribed to the letter of the keeping work and personal lives separate motto.
Consequently, Carly spent her days applying to job postings, making notes for whomever the board hired and boxing up the office for the upcoming move. They hadn’t received a delivery date for the mobile home yet, but she hoped it would arrive in time for her to organize the offices before she left to ease her successor’s transition. But if not, her and Owen securing the donation meant she would leave Horses for Heroes better off than when she’d assumed the director position.
She considered yesterday’s phone interview with the Denver rehab clinic. According to the human resources person, the office manager would schedule in-person interviews within the next few days. Everything in her life was going according to plan.
But she wasn’t happy because she’d hurt Owen and Ryder. As she placed her desk personal items into a box, her father’s words rattled through her mind, haunting her. Was she making the same mistake he had, pushing everyone away because she feared getting hurt?
No. She wasn’t keeping people at a distance. She had her father, her friends—Reese, Addie, Lainey, and Samantha. Up until she blown up her relationship with Ryder, they’d been close. The only relationship she’d ended was with Owen, and that had been a rational decision based on the direction their lives were taking. If he’d returned to the Army, they could’ve had a different outcome. In fact, moving with him to various bases around the world could have been fun. But instead, he’d decided to stay in Service, and she couldn’t.
She’d feel differently when she moved and returned to therapy. When she started her new life and didn’t have to worry about running into Owen. When folks didn’t bombard her about what went wrong between them this time when she went to the grocery store.
Thinking of the grocery store reminded Carly she’d finished off the milk on her cereal this morning. She grabbed her cell and texted Reese to pick up some after work.
Her phone buzzed with a response. “U can’t avoid the world 4 ever. But will cut u slack 2day. Tomorrow go to the store urself.”
She finished Reese’s text, but before she put her phone down her board president called. Not sure she could handle a conversation with Helen, Carly considered letting the call go to voice mail. But then telling herself she was becoming a pessimistic coward, she pulled up her big girl panties and answered.
“Our search is going better than expected. After the phone interviews, we have two good candidates. We’d hoped to have more, but of the two others we were interested in one accepted another offer. The other pulled out because he didn’t want to move to Service.”
“But two viable candidates is good news.” Maybe her luck had changed. Fingers crossed.
“We interviewed one yesterday, and the other, a woman who runs a food pantry in San Antonio, is scheduled for tomorrow.”
While she appreciated the update, Carly wondered why her board president shared the information with her since she wasn’t involved in the search. Not sure how to respond, she waited for Helen to continue.
“The candidate we interviewed yesterday was Owen Crawford.”
Carly chewed on her lower lip to keep it from trembling. Goodness she missed him, and every time she heard his name or thought of him pain, sharper than the last one, sliced through her.
“His lack of nonprofit experience doesn’t concern you?”
“Considering how instrumental he was in obtaining the donation from Clint McMillan, we felt obligated to offer him a phone interview. But afterwards the board was quite impressed, and we scheduled the face-to-face interview.”
Of course he dazzled the board since Owen could sell parkas in the desert when he turned on the charm.
“Since you’ve known Owen for years and worked with him as a client and on fundraising projects, the board wants your insights on his ability to run the agency,” Helen said.
Talk about a delicate situation. Carly picked at a hangnail. Then she swallowed her nervous laughter and her first response. One about the difficulty of answering a question about her high school sweetheart/client/boyfriend again/again former boyfriend applying to become her successor.
Talk about walking a work/professional life tightwire, and a whopping conflict of interest. Carly smiled as relief bolted through her.
