Chapter Eight #2
“That’s honest.” They paused as the waiter brought their lunches, ahi tuna for his father and a thick, juicy hamburger for Blake.
“Your call was a big surprise, but I’m glad you did.
You’re an adult, and it’s time we met. When all of you were babies, I thought money was so important.
It turns out it’s not that important at all.
It seems that way when you don’t have it, or when you’re young and trying to acquire it.
I wanted money and power and I left my family behind. ”
“I think in some ways you set an example for us—sort of what not to do.”
“If it keeps any of you from feeling the way I do when you’re my age, then that’s good. You said no more hotels, so what will you do? What’s your focus now?”
“Ranching, and I still deal in commercial real estate. I’m not giving up either of those endeavors. I have some good property in this state.”
“Yes, you do. I told you—I keep up with my sons. I’m proud of all of you.”
“I suppose I need to say thank you,” Blake said, surprised at how well this lunch was going.
They ate in silence, and Blake thought of all the years of anger, when he was growing up and as an adult. Now that he was finally with his dad, he could see there was no longer any reason for anger. Pity was the strongest emotion evoked by the man across from him.
Sierra had been right that it was foolish to try to get revenge at this point in life. What else was she right about? Would it matter to her if he told her that he’d had lunch with his dad? Or would she even listen to him if he tried to call her?
They continued to eat in silence, and he wondered if that was really all he had to talk about with his father.
“One more nugget of advice from your elder. Pay attention to what’s important in your life,” his dad finally said. “I didn’t pay attention in my own life, and I can’t undo that now. There is no going back.”
“Yes, sir,” Blake said, thinking about the people who had come into his life in the past month.
“Sir, there’s a way you can help someone else, and maybe help some little boys who don’t have dads.
I’ve been seeing a woman, and she runs a nonprofit agency that helps people.
They have a shelter for homeless children.
I have her card,” he said, thinking about William.
He withdrew his wallet to get Sierra’s card and handed it to his dad. “I went to a picnic with her—homeless kids who live in a children’s shelter run by her agency attended. Some of these kids don’t have either parent. There are kids you could help with a donation.
“I didn’t plan this ahead of time, but I thought of it now because of our conversation.
I met a little boy at that picnic. William has never known his dad, and his mother was killed.
William lives in the shelter, and he has clothes, but nothing else—not a bicycle, not a ball, nothing.
You might help him or other kids. It won’t be your own sons, but those kids will know someone cares. That would mean a lot to a child.”
And Blake knew it was true. All that Sierra had said—about doing good, about helping others—somehow it had sunk in. There was good in the world, sometimes, and he suddenly understood her better than he had before.
Nodding, his father took the card and put it in his pocket. “I’m glad to have talked to you today, glad you called. With the hotels and all, I figured you were really angry.”
“I was, but it doesn’t matter now.”
“You’re smart to recognize that. It really doesn’t matter. Don’t ruin the things that do matter.”
“Yes, sir, I’m trying not to,” Blake said, thinking again about Sierra. “It was nice to have lunch with you. I have a plane waiting, and I need to go. Can I call the limo for you?”
“Thanks. I’ll get it. Good luck, and call again sometime, if you’re in town.”
“You can’t imagine what those words would have meant to me when I was a little kid,” Blake said softly.
His dad merely nodded. Blake turned away, walking out of the restaurant feeling as if a weight had lifted and some old hurts had been laid to rest. He wondered if he would ever see or talk to his father again.
He had to talk to Sierra. Had she moved on with her life and put all thoughts of him aside? Was she already wiping out memories of their time together? She could never put him completely out of her mind—not with a baby between them. But he wanted more than a child with her. He wanted a life.
But before he could strategize how to win back Sierra, there was currently one person waiting to hear about lunch: Cade. When Blake was seated in the jet, still on the ground and waiting for clearance to take off, he called his half brother.
“Lunch is over and so is the competition. Cade, he’s an old man. He told me to call him Dirkson. He says he has a lot of regrets, and I believe him.”
“You didn’t tell him off for what he did?”
“I’m all grown up. It just doesn’t matter anymore.”
“I can’t believe I’m talking to the same Blake.
I haven’t seen him in a while, but we’ve seen him all through the years and you haven’t, so you probably notice bigger changes.
Well, maybe you’ll sleep better now. And maybe he’ll sleep worse,” Cade said, laughing.
“Would serve him right, but he probably sleeps like an old dog in front of the fire.”
“That’s my cue to stop talking to you. My plane is taking off.” He could hear Cade chuckling as Blake ended the call.
He stared at his phone, wanting to call Sierra. He missed her, and he hoped he hadn’t permanently ruined his chances with her.
He needed a way to win her back.
He’d tried going out with friends, but even with the most charming ones, his mind wandered until he was lost in memories of being with Sierra. Today, with his father, it had been her voice whispering to him about William and the good he and his father could do for a child.
When he was alone at night, too many times he had reached for his phone to call her.
He knew now he would never be able to move on, and he hadn’t expected it to be this difficult to figure out what to do next.
But then, nothing about her had ever been simple.
She still complicated his life, even when she wasn’t present and he hadn’t talked to her for days.
The thought that he might not kiss her again gave him a hollow feeling. The thought that she might be out of his life, except as his baby’s mother, made him hurt.
He hadn’t been turned down before by a woman who really mattered to him.
Getting turned down by Sierra felt as if he had lost something valuable.
He wanted to tell her he had dropped the hotel business, that he was no longer bent on revenge, that he’d even reached out to his father.
But he couldn’t because she wouldn’t even take his calls.
He stared into space and saw her blue eyes and her thick, silky brown hair. He remembered her laughter. He remembered everything about her. With a groan, he shook his head.
He was in love with her.
He thought about his conversation with his father. Don’t ruin the things that do matter. He couldn’t let her go. He couldn’t lose her. He didn’t want to be like his dad—a man filled with regrets.
Why hadn’t he recognized the depths of his feelings sooner? Could he ever win her love after all the things he’d said and done? He couldn’t even get her to take his calls!
He picked up his phone to call her—and got her voicemail.
There had to be a way to reach her. And a way to make her listen.
Sierra stared at the papers on her desk without seeing them. Instead she saw Blake’s dark brown eyes, his smile and his thick, black hair. She missed him—and with each day she missed him more instead of less.
She couldn’t forget him. She couldn’t even shake him out of her thoughts.
She didn’t want to marry him, but this being away from him was terrible.
She knew she was in love with him. And that romantic part of her wanted to marry him.
But what if they married and he never fell in love with her?
Would that kind of one-sided marriage work?
She ran her fingers through her hair and massaged her temples. His revenge plan still chilled her. Hot tears threatened, and she wiped her eyes in hurt and annoyance.
She couldn’t concentrate on work, and she didn’t think it was healthy to be so glum, but she couldn’t see a solution to these feelings she had for Blake. If she could just stop thinking about him...but everything in her life reminded her of him.
How long was she going to cry over him and miss him? Was she making a huge mistake by not saying yes to his proposal?
Early Wednesday morning, Nan informed Sierra she had a call. Sierra didn’t recognize the name, but she took the call anyway.
When the call ended, she stepped into Nan’s office. “That was a man representing Dirkson Callahan. He’s made an appointment to see me, and he’ll be here this afternoon at one.”
“Dirkson Callahan? Mercy. Do you think he’s here because you’re carrying his grandchild?” Nan asked.
Sierra shook her head. “No. Absolutely not. Dirkson Callahan wouldn’t even talk to his own son. Why would he be interested in a grandchild? Besides, he has a little granddaughter. Blake’s half brother has a little girl and Mr. Callahan has never made overtures to her.”
“What would he want to see you about? If he’s making a donation, he’d send it in the mail.”
“I don’t think that’s what it is.”
“This will send Bert into a frenzy trying to figure out what’s going on.
Speaking of Bert—when he checked on the children’s shelter, he said Blake had sent a bat and three balls—a baseball, a soccer ball and a football—plus a baseball glove and new tennis shoes to William.
He also sent new balls and gloves to the shelter so they’ll have more equipment. ”
“That’s good news,” Sierra said, surprised and pleased.
“Bert said Mrs. Perkins at the shelter told him that Blake Callahan stopped by to see William. Are you still not taking his calls?”