Chapter 26
26
They’d just left Madison, driving away in the truck, and Liam was already regretting the way he’d handled the goodbye.
Because he’d been terrified for his daughter, he’d acted like a real asshole, behaved as though he thought Madison had done something wrong, when she clearly hadn’t. The fact that he’d almost lost Keely to a situation he couldn’t begin to understand was no excuse.
He had some apologizing to do.
And some groveling.
“What happened out there, Keely?” he asked, gripping the steering wheel so hard his knuckles hurt. He’d noticed that Cavan was asleep in his booster seat, which meant he could speak freely.
The boy’s face was still red, damp with perspiration and tear-stained, and his eyelids trembled as he dreamed.
“Tell me,” Liam reiterated.
“I don’t know,” Keely whispered.
“You do know.” The contradiction was mild, but it was firm, too.
Keely sighed. “I was so mean to Cavan, and I couldn’t take back what I said.” She swallowed, sniffled. “I guess I wanted to run away from myself, so I wouldn’t have to be me anymore.”
Liam’s battle-weary heart ached, but he was asking a different question.
“We’ll get to that,” Liam replied. They’d reached the ranch, and he drew the truck to a stop in front of the garage. Then he turned in the seat to look directly into his daughter’s face. “What you did was wrong, Keely. Very wrong. But right now, I want to know what happened out there, to you and to Madison.”
Keely squeezed her eyes shut, and a single tear trickled down her right cheek. “I thought I was dying,” she said, meeting his gaze again. “I thought I was so bad that God killed me, because I had this terrible pain in my head, and then I saw the lady.”
“What lady?” Liam asked evenly.
Cavan stirred, but thankfully he didn’t wake up. The poor kid was exhausted.
“I’ve never seen her before. She wore funny, old-time clothes, like some of the women who work at Bitter Gulch, and she had a big baby bump. She was fishing in the creek, but when she saw me, she looked really upset, and she said, ‘Oh, no!’ and that scared me really bad, because I knew I was someplace I wasn’t supposed to be. She put down her fishing pole—it was weird, Dad, more like a stick with a string instead of the kind you and Papa use—and then she came over to me and grabbed my hand. She said, ‘You must go back, quickly!’ I wanted to ask who she was, and what was going on, because my head hurt so badly, and I felt like I was really far away from you and Cavan and Madison and Charlie. And like maybe I wouldn’t be able to get back. There was more pain, and this explosion of light, and then Madison was there, and she looked as scared as I was. She and the lady talked—I don’t remember what they said—and then Madison was hugging me really tight, and the lady just—disappeared.”
Liam took a few moments to digest her words, but he couldn’t break them down into anything that made sense. Surely Keely had imagined all this, and yet he believed her.
“I was so glad to see Madison,” the girl said. “I was so scared, but she held on to me, and I knew that light wouldn’t be strong enough to suck me back in, ’cause it had mostly faded away by then. And because Madison wouldn’t have let me go.”
Liam closed his eyes briefly.
Madison.
He’d treated her like an axe murderer, not the woman he loved. The woman who’d been there for his daughter and quite possibly saved her—from what, he couldn’t say.
He needed to talk to her, but that would have to wait, because his kids needed him now, and probably more than ever before.
He wouldn’t, couldn’t let them down.
So he unfastened Cavan from the booster seat and carried him inside the house. The motion stirred the boy partially awake.
Courtney was standing in the kitchen, stirring a pot of soup.
Keely ran to her, threw her arms around her aunt’s trim waist.
Courtney stroked Keely’s hair with her free hand and gave Liam a questioning look.
“Later,” he said. He was still carrying Cavan, letting him ride on one hip.
Cavan woke all the way up then, and he started to cry again, making a pitiful, whimpering sound that tore his father’s heart from its moorings.
Liam carried the child into the living room, where they could be alone for a little while.
“Keely said—” Cavan began, but couldn’t continue.
“I know what Keely said,” Liam replied quietly into the silence. “And we’re going to talk about that, you and me. And Keely, too, when the time is right.”
“Do I have to go live with somebody else?” Cavan fretted as Liam set him down on the couch and then took a seat next to him. “Because I’m not yours, I mean? I don’t want to leave you!”
“You’re not going anywhere, son. We’re your family, Keely and me, and you belong with us.”
“But Keely hates me!”
Liam mussed the boy’s damp hair. “Keely doesn’t hate you, bud. It might seem that way, but she didn’t mean what she said.”
“Why is she so mad at me?” The question was small, uncertain.
“I don’t think she is, buckaroo. I think Keely is a little mad at herself and a whole lot mad at me. You got caught in the crossfire, and that was wrong. Really wrong. But she’s your sister, and she’d probably defend you to the death.”
Cavan’s eyes widened. “I don’t want Keely to die!”
Liam sighed. He wasn’t handling this well, obviously. “She won’t. I just meant she wouldn’t let anybody else hurt you, even though she’s hurt you herself.”
Cavan sniffled again and tried to look brave. “Did she lie? Is it true that you’re not my dad?”
Liam offered up a silent prayer. How was he supposed to explain reproductive biology to a distraught seven-year-old?
“No,” he said. “She didn’t exactly lie. Do you know how babies are made, buckaroo?”
Cavan shook his head.
Liam couldn’t put this off, couldn’t say, You’ll understand when you’re older.
Even though that was true.
“I’m your dad in every way that really matters,” Liam told his son. “And you are definitely a McKettrick.”
“You’ve said that before,” Cavan pointed out. “But what did Keely mean?”
Liam suppressed a deep sigh, and even though it was silent, he felt it in every part of himself. “Your mother and I didn’t always get along very well, Cav,” he began. “She had a friend, and they made a baby together.”
“Me?” Cavan asked. His eyes were huge, and he seemed to be holding his breath. “Was I the baby they made?”
“Yes.”
“Then he’s my dad? Mom’s friend?”
Liam’s eyes burned, and his voice was a husky rasp when he answered, “In one way, he is.” Cavan’s biological father, a race car driver, had died in a fiery crash when Cavan was two, and before that, as far as Liam knew, he’d wanted nothing to do with his son. Or Waverly. “In the most important ways, though, I’m your dad.”
“You can’t both be my dad!”
Liam gave the boy a one-armed hug, a tight one. “You’re right. I’m your dad, Cavan. And that’s not gonna change.”
“Am I adopted then?” The kid was going to grow up to be a lawyer, for sure. Or a journalist. A man who wouldn’t stop asking until he got answers he could accept as true.
Liam gave a raw chuckle, ruffled Cavan’s dark hair again. “No, buddy. You’ve been a McKettrick from day one. The first time I laid eyes on you, in the hospital after you were born, you were in a little bed, behind a thick glass window. There were other babies all around you, dozens of them, but I knew you were mine with just one look. My heart opened up then, and you snuggled right into it. You’ve been there ever since.”
At last, Cavan relaxed a little. He huddled close against Liam’s side. “I like being in your heart, Dad,” he said, his voice muffled by the fabric of his father’s T-shirt. In the next moment, the boy reared back and looked up at Liam in consternation. “Dad?”
“What?”
“You don’t smell very good.”
Liam threw back his head and laughed. Laughed ’til he cried.
Cavan shifted to his knees and tried to brush the tears from Liam’s eyes.
“Don’t cry, Dad. I’m right here.”
Liam made a strangled sound, took the boy into his arms, and shuffled him onto his lap. Then he buried his face in Cavan’s sweaty little neck and blew a raspberry.
The peal of childish laughter that followed mended Liam’s heart.
As the hours passed, a welcome sense of calm settled over the ranch house.
Keely stayed in her room, and Liam left her alone, though his first instinct had been to wade into troubled waters and sort things out.
Fortunately, Courtney had dissuaded him from that idea.
Liam saw to the evening chores, taking extra time with the horses, not because their presence was reassuring, though it was, but because his heart was swelling with emotion, and he needed a place to put it. If he held it in, he would burst.
That night was long and, for the most part, sleepless.
He woke at dawn, pulled on jeans, a T-shirt and boots, and headed for the barn.
Once the horses had been fed, watered and turned out to graze, he returned to the house.
Courtney was back in the kitchen, sitting slump-shouldered at the table, a cup of coffee growing cold in front of her.
“Are the kids all right, Liam?” she asked without preamble. “Are you?”
“We’re dealing with some things, but, yeah, we’ll be fine.”
“Promise?”
He poured himself a cup of coffee, leaned against the counter to sip at it. No way he’d let it go cold; he needed the zip it always gave him. “I promise,” he replied.
“I take it Keely told Cavan about Waverly and the race car driver,” Courtney ventured, apparently in need of some convincing that all of them really would be okay.
“Not in graphic detail,” Liam answered after a slight sigh. “But he knows he’s not biologically mine, yes. I’m not sure he understands what that means—it’s hard to explain that kind of stuff to a little kid.”
Courtney closed her eyes, swayed slightly in her chair. She was wearing faded gray sweats and sneakers, and her dark hair was pulled up into a messy bun on top of her head. When she met Liam’s gaze again, her face was full of concern. “Did you try?”
“Yes.” He choked up for a moment, remembering how Cavan had attempted to dry his tears the day before. “He’ll have a lot more questions as time goes on, of course. For now, though, we’re good.”
“Thank heaven,” Courtney breathed. Then, sitting up a little straighter, she added, “What happens now, Liam? Seems to me there’s a lot of unfinished business to attend to.”
“You’re right,” Liam said. “I’ll take Keely out for a horseback ride later today, just the two of us, if she’s ready for that, and talk things through.”
Courtney leaned forward just slightly, and her expression was earnest. “Don’t be too hard on her, Liam,” she said. “Between them, Mom and Waverly did a number on that poor child. Keely isn’t cruel, she’s scared. And she’s confused.”
“She’s told you all that?”
Courtney nodded. “Yes. Let her come to you, okay? She’ll do that when she’s ready. I know she will.”
Liam set his half-finished coffee aside and folded his arms. “All right,” he said. “I’ll wait. There’s been a lot to muddy the waters lately, and we all need time to let things settle to the bottom.” He paused, thought for a moment, then went on. “There’s something I need to do in town. Is there any possibility you can look after the kids for a few hours?”
“I’d be glad to,” Courtney replied quickly, smiling now. “I believe this situation calls for my famous chocolate chip and cherry waffles. You do own a waffle iron, right?”
“No,” Liam answered with a grin and a shake of his head. “I’m sure you’ll figure something out, though, culinary genius that you are. That soup you made for supper last night was ambrosia.”
Courtney laughed. “Get out of here,” she said. “And don’t you dare come back without a waffle iron. The fun kind shaped like Mickey Mouse, if you can find one.”
Mentally, Liam added a stop at Walmart to his list.
If he got around to it, that is.
He had barely stepped outside when Keely called to him. “Dad, wait!”
Liam stopped, watched as she approached. “What’s up?” he asked, his voice a little hoarse as a variety of emotions welled up inside him.
Reaching his side, Keely gripped him by the forearm and stage-whispered, “I really need to talk to you.”
With that, she pulled the door shut behind them.
Liam sucked in a deep dose of fresh country air and rested a hand between Keely’s shoulder blades, giving her a light push away from the doorstep.
Then he crouched in order to look directly into his daughter’s eyes, which were now welling up with tears that glistened in the sunshine. “Talk to me, Keely,” he urged quietly.
Keely trembled, bit her lower lip. Now tears were flowing down her cheeks. “I need to know you still love me,” she said. And those words rocked Liam’s very soul.
“Of course I still love you,” he said, his voice husky.
He stood and lifted Keely in the curve of one arm, the way he had when she was little.
Keely sniffled. “I did something really bad, though. I shouldn’t have told Cavan he wasn’t your son.” A sob escaped her, and she buried her face in Liam’s shoulder. “I’m so sorry, Dad!”
Liam squeezed her close, then planted a big kiss on her left temple. “What you did was mean, Keely. Really mean. You apologized to Cavan, right?”
Keely nodded and uttered a small, despairing sob. “He called me a meanie-weenie,” she said, laughing even as she cried. “Then he told me that if I was nice to him from now on, he’d be nice to me.”
Liam gave a gruff chuckle. Cavan. Ever the optimist. But his kids were young, with a lot of growing up to do, and it was unlikely they’d get through the coming years without butting heads occasionally.
Now Keely drew back a little to look directly into her father’s face. “I said I couldn’t promise I’d never be mean again, because I’m going to be a teenager pretty soon, but that I’d always remember that he is your son, and my brother.”
Liam blinked hard, but a single tear escaped, and Keely promptly wiped it away with her index finger. “We’ll all have to work hard in therapy,” he said, “because we’ve been through a lot, especially you and Cavan, but we’re going to make it, Keely. I need you to know that. We’re a family, and we always will be.”
“Really?”
Liam set his daughter on her sneakered feet. “Really,” he confirmed.
“You won’t send me back to Gambie’s house, or to boarding school?”
“That is never gonna happen,” Liam said, swiping a forearm across his wet eyes.
“You promise?” There was so much hope in Keely’s shining eyes that Liam thought his knees might buckle, what with all the feelings he was having all at once.
“I promise,” he said, meaning it. Then he bent, kissed the top of her head. “I have some things to do in town,” he told her. “You going to be all right?”
Keely nodded vigorously, turned, and went back inside the house.
Soon enough, though still shaken, Liam was on the road, headed for Painted Pony Creek.
It was too early to knock on Madison’s door, so he’d have to kill some time in town. Plus, she’d be extra-busy today because of Coralee’s big send-off, but he had things to say to her, and he was going to say them, even if it was awkward.
He had a leisurely breakfast at Bailey’s, keeping to himself, though he responded to every greeting—of which there were many—with a smile and a nod.
Painted Pony Creek was his home now, and it was his kids’ home, too. Therefore, no matter how distracted he might be by his immediate plans, he wanted to be friendly.
He ate—ham and eggs and hash browns, with a side of Texas toast—very slowly.
He watched the sun climb higher and higher in the eastern sky.
He read an abandoned newspaper and drank about ten cups of coffee.
Finally, at nine o’clock, he paid up, left a generous tip for the waitress, and headed for his truck. He’d parked it over on the other side of Bitter Gulch.
After a quick stop at Walmart, where he purchased a Mickey Mouse waffle maker, he drove to Bettencourt Hall, and parked a ways back from the house, since the driveway was full of caterers’ and florists’ vans. It was definitely an action scene, with people hurrying back and forth, carrying pans and bowls and bouquets, and Liam moved politely through the jostle on his way to the back door.
He ran into Audra on the sunporch.
“Mornin’,” he said.
She watched him, mouth slightly open, eyes wide, but she didn’t say a word.
Liam crossed the sunporch, sidestepping Audra, and knocked lightly on the back door, which was partially open.
Through the gap, he saw Madison.
She was wearing a sundress.
Her hair was up, and her fancy sandals had the same effect as high heels—i.e., they did things for her long, silky legs that twisted things in Liam he rarely thought about.
She turned at the sound of his knock, looked worried for a moment, then baked him alive with her smile. “Come in,” she said.
He came in. Stood face-to-face with her, bedazzled by the soft lavender-and-spice scent of her skin.
Without preamble, he made his announcement. “I love you, Madison Bettencourt.”
She looked stunned, but then a look of mischievous triumph came into her magical hazel eyes. “Seriously?”
“Yes. I know this is going to take a while, but I didn’t want to let another day—another hour go by without telling you.”
Madison was still for a long time, so long that Liam started to think she was going to show him the road, once and for all.
Instead, she slipped her arms around his neck.
He felt the warm firmness of her lush breasts through the thin cloth of his T-shirt, and outside, the noise of busy preparation receded.
They kissed, deeply and for a long time.
“Oops,” said a woman’s voice just before the back door closed.
Madison smiled and looked up into his eyes. “You love me—seriously?” she asked, her tone almost teasing.
“Absolutely,” Liam replied.
“Well,” Madison responded to his great relief, “I love you, too, Liam McKettrick.”
He planted a light kiss on the tip of her nose. “I know Coralee’s memorial service is today, but—well, we need to talk, soon. I want to marry you, Madison.”
Madison’s eyes were still sparkling. “And I want to marry you, too,” she agreed. “But we have a lot to discuss. For instance, I need to know if you’re willing to have more children. And there will definitely be no big, splashy wedding this time. I don’t have the best track record in that area, if you recall.”
Liam laughed, though quietly. After all, Madison had lost her only living relative, and today marked the final goodbye.
“I definitely want more kids. With you. And as long as you’re willing to say ‘I do’ and sign the marriage license after the ceremony, I don’t care if we get married in the barn.”
Now it was Madison who laughed.
And Liam relished the note of delight he heard in her voice.
He kissed her again then. Thoroughly.
“Are you coming to the memorial this afternoon?” Madison asked. “You and Cavan and Keely?”
“Do you want us here?” Liam’s tone was serious now.
“Yes,” Madison said. “I want you here, all three of you. And Courtney, too, of course, if she wants to join us.”
Liam’s heart shot skyward like fireworks. They were going to build a real family, he and Madison, Cavan and Keely, and the other little McKettricks who were bound to come along in time.
“We’ll be here,” he promised. He hadn’t forgotten, after all, that Madison was grieving, and he wanted to be there to support her in whatever way she needed.
With that decision made, he hugged her close, and she cried a little, and when she’d recovered, Liam headed home to shower and dig through his closet for a suit.
He was well out of town when he pulled to the side of the road, rolled down the window, and yelled for joy.