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“I’m worried,” she said. “This is the first time in years that I’ve had any emotion for a man, for two men. And this piece of business could tear us apart.”
“Agreed,” he said, wishing she would drop it, but he knew from talking to her that wouldn’t happen.
They walked into the yard outside the barn, and Cal had three horses ready and saddled.
“When was the last time you rode a horse?” he asked Lillian.
“Not since we left the ranch and moved to San Antonio,” she said, gazing at the animal nervously.
“You’ll remember as soon as you get back on,” Nathan assured her as he helped her on the gentle mare.
She licked her lips and then rubbed the animal’s neck. “Let’s be friends.”
The horse snickered.
Cal glanced at Nathan who had a look that, for just a second, showed his walls were removed, and he could see the anguish, fear, and anger there. Lillian was the first woman Cal had really had emotions for since their debacle attempted wedding with Emily.
“Let’s go; we all have things to do this afternoon,” Cal said, climbing up on his horse.
Nathan stepped into the stirrup and swung his leg over the saddle. Cal clicked to his horse, and she strode out the gate.
Earlier today, Nathan had packed a blanket, a small picnic lunch, and a box of toys in his saddle bag. Yes, he wanted to play outdoors today, regardless of their time crunch. He couldn’t seem to get enough of Lillian.
They rode along in silence with Nathan and Cal close beside Lillian. It didn’t take long for them to see that she would do just fine with the gentle mare. Riding was returning to her, and she’d obviously been a very good horsewoman.
“The land is still so beautiful,” she said, gazing out at the pastures with cattle on them. “We used to ride so much. I helped Papa and my grandfathers at round-up time.”
Nathan’s family had been lawyers, so they had not owned a ranch. He’d only moved out here with Cal when they would marry. But that didn’t happen, and he’d just never moved out.
“Like you, I was raised by my grandfather,” Cal said.
“Oh, no. My mother is still alive, but we always lived with my grandmother and two grandfathers,” Lillian said.
Cal nodded. “Well, I wasn’t so fortunate. My parents got involved with drugs. Whenever my father was low on cash and couldn’t afford to buy his drug of choice, he liked to take his frustration out on me. Quickly, I learned that if Dad was out of drugs, you hid. You didn’t come out of your room. If you had to leave, you crawled out the window because, otherwise, he would make an example of you and what’s wrong with his life. And he thought nothing of using his fists.”
Lillian licked her lips and shook her head. “Didn’t your mother stop him?”
“Oh no, because if she tried, he would just hurt both of us,” he said. “And besides, she’d be going through withdrawal as well. Finally, one of my teachers noticed the bruises on me and contacted Child Protective Services.”
Nathan knew this story, but it still always got to him. How could a parent do that to a child? But then, how could a parent use drugs or alcohol? He counted his lucky stars that he had parents who were loving and kind and recently had moved into a golfing community for their retirement.
They knew the Blessing way and didn’t approve or disavow it. They said it was his life, his choice.
“Did your life get better after Child Protective Services were called?”
“No, they removed me from the home and put me in foster care. There, I moved from family to family. Some were good, some were really bad, and some just wanted the money. You quickly learned to hide.”
Another reason Cal was so good at hiding his emotions.
“Did they contact your grandfather? Is that how you came to live here?” Lillian asked.
Nathan could see she was curious about Cal’s background.
“Not until my parents were killed in a car crash. It wasn’t until then that they learned of my grandfather and contacted him. I was nine years old when I came to Blessing to live with him.”
She nodded. “That’s horrible. I’m so sorry that happened to you. I guess I was lucky and still had my family.”
“Yes,” Cal said. “You were. I never knew my grandmother. She had passed before I went into foster care. My grandfather is my father’s dad. The two stopped speaking not long after I was born, and my father kept asking for money. Even then, he was on drugs.”
