Accidental Homecoming Page 15

  “I can imagine.”

  “It was an IED. Got them both.”

  Danny frowned. “The scar on his face?”

  Mark nodded. “The one you can see, and the ones you can’t. The bomb killed Brandon immediately, and hit Luke from the side. For a while, the doctors didn’t think he’d even be able to walk again.”

  “He seems to walk just fine,” Danny said. Luke was tough as nails. Or seemed like it.

  “That’s because he’s stubborn and doesn’t want anyone to know it still hurts like hell. But every once in a while, I can tell he’s in pain.”

  “Huh.”

  The conversation sputtered like a wet candle for a minute and then Mark cleared his throat. “So...” he said. Danny glanced at him, snared by his odd tone more than anything else. He took a sip of his drink and then pinned Danny with a sharp gaze. “Lizzie? You two thinking about making it permanent?”

  Something clogged his throat. He coughed. “What?”

  “You know. Lizzie. You gonna marry her?”

  Holy crap. What a question. Shards of panic sliced through him. Hadn’t he just spent days thinking about his determination to be a family man—and the odds he was playing, given his history? “I...don’t know.”

  Mark made a face. “Don’t you? You have a daughter together—”

  “Yeah, well, you and I both know that hardly requires marriage.”

  “And you’re crazy about Emma.”

  Yes. True. But the idea of popping the question was...terrifying. What if she said no?

  “Lizzie and I are, ahem, taking it slow. I mean, we only just reconnected a few months ago. And I didn’t even know about Emma until then. We have to do this right, if we do it at all. Especially to make sure Emma is...you know...not hurt.”

  “Okay.” Mark saluted him with his beer. “Just don’t take too long. Lizzie’s a beautiful woman and there are a lot of lonely men in these parts. Just sayin’.”

  Great. Just great.

  Well, if nothing else, his conversation with Mark had given him a lot to think about.

  Chapter Ten

  To everyone’s delight, the transplant team announced that Emma could go home in mid-December. Lizzie was over the moon. She’d spent the past month preparing for this day, and already had special air filters installed in the condo, purchased extra linens so she could change Emma’s bed every day and fully researched an anti-microbial diet.

  Even though Emma could now come home, there were still restrictions. One of the worst was that Lizzie had to limit her visitors. That meant she had to say no to the Stirlings, who wanted to come for Christmas.

  Danny was there, though, watching Emma open her—sanitized—presents on Christmas Eve. When Lizzie caught him wiping something from his eye, she asked if he was all right.

  He shrugged. “Sure. I’m just enjoying Emma’s excitement. We, ah, never had a Christmas like this when I was a kid,” he said.

  “No presents?” Emma stopped ripping paper and gaped at him.

  He forced a smile. “No, sweetie. We didn’t have money for presents back then.” He glanced back at the table where they’d just had dinner. “No fancy dinner, either.”

  Emma tipped her head to the side. “What about pie?”

  “Nope. Heck, I was happy with a bologna sandwich.”

  She came to his side. Patted his hand. “No presents. No pie. How sad.”

  He pulled her onto his lap with an exaggerated groan that was barely muffled through his mask. “Not really. You just do with what you have, honey. And then, when you do get pie, boy, you sure do appreciate it. It’s real important to be thankful for what you have.”

  He glanced at Lizzie then, and a shiver walked through her. “Emma,” she said, surely not to evade her emotions, which were always tender at this time of year. “I think there’s a present for your dad under the tree. Why don’t you find it?”

  Naturally, she dived into the trove with alacrity, quickly finding the box and carrying it to her father as though it were the gift of the Magi.

  “For me?” he asked through a laugh. “What is it?”

  Emma giggled. “You have to open it.” And open it he did.

  He did shed a tear then, as he sat there holding the mug that said World’s Best Dad. But, of course, he denied it.

  * * *

  The next six months passed quickly. During that time, Danny visited nearly every weekend—except for a couple weeks in January because the passes closed down due to snow.

  Lizzie was busy with work and running Emma to the hospital for blood draws and checkups. In early May, Emma’s port was removed and restrictions were decreased, including the requirement for constant mask wearing at home, though it was still recommended if Emma was out in public.

  In June, Dr. Blake broke the wonderful news that Emma was cleared to visit her dad in eastern Washington.

  The closer the day came, the more excited Emma was to see her daddy, her aunt and uncles...and the ranch.

  Emma helped Lizzie pack by bouncing on the bed among the folded underwear and singing her new song titled, “I’m gonna go see Uncle Luke,” which she belted incessantly into her microphone hand.

  “You’re going to see your daddy, too,” Lizzie reminded her, more often than she should have to.

  “Oh, I know, Mommy. But he’s my dad. He will always be there for me.”

  Lizzie blinked and stared at her daughter. “What? Where did you hear that?”

  Emma made big eyes. “Because he told me, silly.”

  “He told you he would always be there for you?” Something lodged in her throat.

  “Of course he did.”

  Of course he did.

  She had to turn away. To hide her smile. Her heart blossomed. What a good father Danny had turned out to be. She’d done the right thing, bringing him into their lives. She’d have to tell him again when he came to pick them up.

  When Danny and Mark finally arrived to help with the move, it was almost surreal.

  This was it.

  This was the first day of a new life.

  The guys filled Lizzie’s car with clothes and toys and books, and strapped the few pieces of furniture she’d decided to take to Mark’s truck. Fortunately, they didn’t have a lot of stuff, so they hadn’t needed a mover.

  Nan went with Lizzie and Emma down to the garage to see them off. “Now I can finally make a mess,” she said with a wobbly grin as they held each other tightly. Nan discreetly wiped her eyes before hugging Emma, telling her to be good...but not too good.

  “Come visit soon,” Lizzie charged her, with another tearful hug.

  “I will,” Nan responded. “You can’t get rid of me this easily.”

  Of course, they both laughed at that, which led to even more sniffling and hugging before Lizzie finally put herself into the car, though she stared back at her sister, and waved, until she disappeared from view.

  Oh, it was hard leaving Nan. She’d been a bulwark in their lives for six long years. And they hadn’t been easy years. First there had been Lizzie’s worries about her pregnancy. Then, how to raise a daughter, and then, the nightmare of Emma’s illness.

  But now, everything had changed. All Lizzie’s former worries seemed to be resolved, or nearly. Her daughter was getting better and now, she and Emma and Danny were going to be together. Things were good now, Lizzie realized it might take a while to brush off the constant stress of five years, but she was determined to try.

  It was a long drive from Seattle to Butterscotch Ridge, but not boring. Emma did puzzles and sang and waved at Mark whenever they happened to pass each other on the road. Danny drove Lizzie’s car, and he and Lizzie chatted as she enjoyed the passing greenery...until they crossed the mountains and hit the wide-open plains. Not much green in those grand vistas; the blue bowl of the sky arched, unimpeded,
over their heads.

  In the far distance, she saw a thunderstorm—big gray clouds with silver streams of rain pouring down—but it could have been a hundred miles away for all she knew. With no trees or mountains, you could see forever.

  Though they arrived in Butterscotch Ridge in the early evening, the sun was still high in the summer sky, allowing Lizzie to take full stock of surrounding landscape. Though there was a lot of brown—butterscotch brown—it had a certain stark beauty. When Danny turned off the highway and they passed beneath a huge sign emblazoned with the words Stirling Ranch, Lizzie’s pulse started to pound. Her mouth went dry.

  “You’re gonna start seeing the house after we round this ridge,” he said.

  What? “Wait, start seeing it?” Lizzie asked.

  “Mmm-hmm.” He nodded. “It’s, ah, something.”

  Emma popped up between them and said, “What’s something?”

  Lizzie frowned at her. “Get your seat belt back on, young lady.”

  “But we’re almost there.”

  Lizzie almost responded, “And most fatalities occur within five miles of the home,” but simply said, “Sit,” until Emma did with a theatrical moan.

  “And your seat belt.” She glared until she heard a click. And then she whipped around with a sigh. And, yes, she caught Danny’s grin.

  “You’re pretty good at that,” he said.

  “Yeah?” she muttered. “Just wait.” She was about to say more, but they took that turn and there it was. The house.

  Her heart stuttered. “Danny, it’s huge.”

  He shrugged. “You get used to it. The three of us have our rooms in one wing—”

  “Wing?”

  “So we’ll be close, but you and, um, Emma will still have privacy.” Lizzie noticed a little hesitation in his words. She wondered just how much separation he wanted from them, but shook off the thought as they pulled up in front of the house.

  Good glory. She’d imagined they’d all be sharing a large farmhouse or something...but this?

  There was no time to ponder things as Danny hopped out, ran around to take her hand, and then Emma’s, and led them up the steps, across the porch and into the house.

  Sam was there to greet them with a hug.

  “We beat Mark,” Emma said in a rush.

  “I can see that you did.” Sam winked at Danny. “Good job.”

  He gave her a sharp salute.

  “Welcome.” Sam ushered them into the grand foyer.

  Lizzie had expected a beautiful home, but not this. Between the curving staircase, shiny wooden floors and a chandelier—an actual chandelier—it was hard not to gape. “Come along, Emma,” she said, because her daughter was gaping, standing there beneath the crystal behemoth with her mouth open and twirling so she could watch it catch the light.

  Sam grinned. “Emma, Grandma’s excited to meet you.” She led them into a comfortable sitting room on the left side of the foyer. The portrait of an old man—Daniel Senior? Lizzie guessed—hung in a place of prominence above the mantel. There were other pictures scattered around; one of a beautiful woman done up in black and white caught her eye. “That’s our mom,” Sam said. “She died when we were little. This one over here is our dad.” She handed the picture to Lizzie and her heart did a little flip. Wow. He looked a lot like Danny.

  “They’re here, Grandma,” Sam said to the older woman napping upright on the divan with a cup of tea in her hand. She opened her eyes and set the teacup on the table, then turned to survey her company. She appeared to be a frail old woman with a wisp of silver hair, a cane by her side and a touch of a tremor, but her eyes were bright and blue and full of mischief. When she spotted Emma, she smiled widely and touched her hands to her rouged cheeks. “And who is this darling?” she cooed as she gestured for Emma to come closer.

  “I’m Emma,” she said.

  “Aren’t you adorable?” Dorthea took her hands. “You know, I had a blue dress just like that when I was little.”

  “Really? This one is my favorite!”

  Dorthea laughed. “Oh, she’s charming. So charming.” Her gesture embraced them all as she motioned to the chairs like a grand hostess of old. “Sit. Sit. Shall we have some tea?” And then, before anyone could respond, “Sam, go fetch more tea. Cookies, too, will you? I’m peckish.” And then, to Emma, “I hope you like cookies.”

  Sam rolled her eyes, but did so, returning quickly with a fresh pot of tea and plates of cookies—which made Emma lick her lips.

  As they nibbled and chatted, Luke and DJ, hair freshly slicked down after a quick shower, joined them. Emma gave a whoop, of course, and ran into Luke’s arms. He twirled her around and loudly smooched her cheek. When he sat, he held Emma on his lap. “I’m so glad to see you’re better, Emma Jean,” he said in a gruff voice.

  “I’m glad to be better, Uncle Luke.”

  And everyone laughed. From joy, perhaps.

  Lizzie sighed. The feeling so very much reminded her of the nights they’d all stayed up and talked when the family had come to visit. It was nice, comfortable and...it felt like home.

  She’d never had so much support, so many people who cared for her and Emma. Now, she had Danny, and Emma had a plethora of uncles and aunts.

  Wow. They had a whole new way of life to get used to. If, of course, everything worked out. If, of course, they stayed.

  * * *

  Though the house was larger than Lizzie had imagined, it still felt welcoming and warm. The kitchen and family rooms were on the main floor, and the second floor was all bedrooms. Lizzie quickly realized her fears about privacy had been utterly unfounded. Danny hadn’t been kidding when he said they had their own wing. It was at the far end of the second floor, right off the main hall in the back.

  Sam was excited to show Lizzie and Emma their bedrooms, which adjoined through the bathroom on one side of the hall. Lizzie’s room was nice. Roomy and comfortable with a large window seat. The sea foam walls were exactly her taste, as was the quilted duvet in complimentary colors. The flowers on her bedside table were a lovely touch, as well.

  As she passed through the bathroom to check out Emma’s new digs—with hand-painted bunnies frolicking on the walls—Lizzie couldn’t help catching a whiff of...was that bleach?

  Oh. It was. Her heart lifted.

  Bleach meant things were clean. Bleach meant rooms were disinfected. Bleach meant it was safe.

  Beyond that, it meant that someone had cared enough to think of Emma, and to make an extra effort to ensure her room was as hygienic as possible. She also noticed that there was a bottle of sanitizer on each bedside table, and one in the bathroom. Even though Emma was better, such efforts were heartily appreciated. They weren’t entirely in the clear yet.

  “You okay?” Danny whispered in her ear.

  She smiled at him. “Yeah. Sure. It’s just...very nice.”

  Was it her imagination, or did his shoulders slump a little in relief? “Awesome. And, just so you know, everyone has agreed to hose down in the stable bathroom before coming into the house.”

  “Hose down?” She chuckled.

  “Yeah, you know. Kick off our boots. Change clothes. Shower. Put whatever we were wearing in the laundry when we get into the house. That sort of thing. Ranching is pretty dirty work. We know Emma needs a super clean environment for the next year or so.”

  Something swelled in her chest. Something painful and beautiful. “Perfect. Thank you.” She kissed his cheek. He turned her head to kiss her lips. It wasn’t until Emma started making hacking noises that she finally pulled away, but with a grin.

  “Let’s see your room, mister,” she said.

  “Right this way.” He led them through the double doors to his chamber.

  And wow. Danny’s room was huge. It had a large sitting area with overstuffed and embroidered chairs in front of the fir
eplace, an enormous four-poster bed, a grand bathroom and closets for days.

  “Seriously?” Lizzie sent him a joking side-eye. “This is your room?”

  He checked to make sure Emma was still preoccupied with Sam in her own room before he leaned in and whispered, “It could be your room, too. You know. If you want.”

  If you want?

  A sizzle licked through her and she looked away, but only because she needed to focus and he was distracting. “We need to talk about that.”

  “Talk about what?” He nibbled on her neck. Shivers cascaded through her.

  “Talk about...you know.”

  “Mmm.”

  She yanked away, because his nibbles were starting to fray her concentration. “How are we going to handle this?”

  His grin was annoyingly confident. The cowboy scruff around it was just annoying. “I figured we’d just wait ’til she falls asleep.”

  “That’s crazy.” Might work.

  “All we have to do is make sure you’re back in your bed before Emma wakes up.”

  That should be no problem. Lizzie had always been an early riser. Even in the days when sleep had been a luxury. “All right. Once Emma’s settled in here, that’s what we’ll do.”

  He ignored her qualification and pulled her into a spin. “That’s what we’ll do.”

  “What’s what you’ll do?” Emma said, pulling Sam by the hand from her own room.

  “Hey, honey,” Danny said, going down on one knee. “What do you think of your new room?”

  She nodded. “I like it.”

  “Great. And...what do you think of your great-grandmother?”

  Emma shrugged. “Nice.”

  “Emma’s never had a grandmother, much less a great grandmother,” Lizzie added.

  “Oh, well, now you do,” Sam said.

  “She’s nice,” Emma said. “She smells like flowers.”

  Sam chuckled. “Yes. She does. That’s the soap she uses. I bet if your mom says it is okay she’ll let you try it.” Sam sighed and gave Emma another hug. “Gosh, we’re all so happy you came.”